PJ 

7755 
A4 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 


1 .  OLLENDORFF'S  NEW  METHOD  OF  LEARNING  THE  GERMAN,  with 

an  Outline  of  the  Grammar  of  the  Language.  By  G.  J.  ABLER,  Professor 
of  German  in  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York.  1  vol.  12mo. 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  New  York,  1845. 

2.  A  PROGRESSIVE  GERMAN  READER,  adapted  to  Adler's  Outline  of  Ger 

man  Grammar.    By  the  same.    1  vol  12mo.    New  York,  1846. 

3.  GERMAN-ENGLISH    AND    ENGLISH-GERMAN    DICTIONARY,    com 

piled  from  the  most  recent  authorities.  By  the  same .  1  vol.  royal 
8vo.  1400  pages.  New  York,  1848. 

4.  An  abridgment  of  the  same,  prepared  with  reference  to  students  of  the  lan 

guage.    By  the  same.    1  vol.  12mo.,  844  pages.    New  York,  1850. 

5.  HAND-BOOK  OF  GERMAN  LITERATURE.    Selections  from  the  Drama, 

with  chronologically  arranged  specimens  of  German  Prose.  By  the 
same.  1  vol.  12mo.  New  York,  1854. 

6.  GOETHE'S  IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS,  translated  from  the  German.     By 

the  same.     1  vol.  12mo.     New  York,  1850. 

7.  A  PRACTICAL  LATIN  GRAMMAR,  upon  the  plan  of  Ollendorff 's  New 

Methods.  By  the  same.  1  vol.  12mo.,  710  pages.  Sanborn,  Carter, 
Bazin  &  Co.,  Boston,  1858. 

8.  FAURIEL'S  HISTORY  OF  PROVENCAL  POETRY,  translated  from  the 

French,  with  an  Introduction  on  the  Literature  of  the  History.  By  the 
same.  1  vol.  8vo.  Derby  &  Jackson,  New  York,  1860. 

9.  NOTES  ON  THE  AGAMEMNON  OF  AESCHYLUS  (a  fragment).    By  the 

same.    Charnbersburg,  1860. 

10.  WILHELM   VON    HUMBOLDT'S   LINGUISTIC AL   STUDIES.    By  the 

same.    (In  pamphlet.)    New  York,  1866. 

11 .  GOETHE'S  FAUST  (Parts  1st  and  2d).     Text  and  translation,  with  Intro 

ductions  on  the  Faust  Literature,  and  ample  notes,  in  two  vols.  By 
the  same.  (In  preparation.) 

PROFESSOR  ABLER  attends  to  a  few  private  students  or  classes  in  the 
studies  related  to  his  text-books.  Ladies  or  gentlemen  desirous  of  availing 
themselves  of  his  instruction  (either  on  their  own  behalf  or  that  of  minors)  will 
please  address  him  to  box  1600,  N.  Y.  City  P.  O.,  or  to  the  care  of  his  publishers, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  445  Broadway. 


THE     POETRY 


OF 


THE    ARABS   OF   SPAIN. 


Being  the  substance  of  a  Lecture  read  in  the  small  Chapel  of  the  University 
of  the  City  of  New  York,  on  the  evening  of  March  28th,  1867, 


BY 


G.  J.  ABLER,  A.  M., 

jl 
Late  Professor  of  German  to  the  University;   Member  of  several  Learned  Societies. 


NEW    YORK: 

PRESS    OF    WYNKOOP    &    HALLENBECK, 

No.  113  FULTON  STBEKT,  N.  Y. 

1867. 


ra 


THE     POETRY 


OF 


THE    ARABS    OF    SPAIN. 


•«.?  substance  of  a  Lecturo 

York,  on 


15  Y 


G.  J.  ABLER,  A.  M., 

I, it i-  P:  erraaii  lo  the  University;   Member  of  several  Learned  Societies. 


NEW    YORK: 
ESS    OF    WYNKOOP    &    HAL]    EN BECK 

No.  113  FULTON  STREET,  N.  Y. 
1867 


THE     POETRY 


OF 


THE     ARABS     OF     SPAIN 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 


1 .  OLLENDORFF'S  NEW  METHOD  OF  LEARNING  THE  GERMAN,  witli 

an  Outline  of  the  Grammar  of  the  Language.  By  G.  J.  ABLER,  Professor 
of  German  in  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York.  1  vol.  12mo. 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  New  York,  1845. 

2.  A  PROGRESSIVE  GERMAN  READER,  adapted  to  Adler's  Outline  of  Ger 

man  Grammar.    By  the  same.     1  vol  12mo.    New  York,  1846. 


3.  GERMAN-ENGLISH    AND    ENGLISH-GERMAN    DICTIONARY,    com- 
i  from  the  most  recent  autho 
1400  pages.    New  York,  1848. 


piled  from  the  most  recent  authorities.    By  the  same.     1  vol.  royal 
8vo. 


4.  An  abridgment  of  the  same,  prepared  with  reference  to  students  of  the  lan 

guage.    By  the  same.    1  vol.  12mo.,  844  pages.    New  York,  1850. 

5.  HAND-BOOK  OF  GERMAN  LITERATURE.    Selections  from  the  Drama, 

with  chronologically  arranged  specimens  of  German  Prose.     By  the 
same.     1  vol.  12mo.     New  York,  1854. 

6.  GOETHE'S  IPHIGENIA  IN  TAURIS,  translated  from  the  German.     By 

the  same.     1  vol.  12mo.     New  York,  1850. 

7.  A  PRACTICAL  LATIN  GRAMMAR,  upon  the  plan  of  Ollendorff 's  New 

Methods.    By  the  same.     1  vol.  12mo.,  710  pages.     Sanborn,  Carter, 
Bazin  &  Co.,  Boston,  1858. 

8.  FAURIEL'S  HISTORY  OF  PROVENCAL  POETRY,  translated  from  the 

French,  with  an  Introduction  on  the  Literature  of  the  History.    By  the 
same.    1  vol.  8vo.    Derby  &  Jackson,  New  York,  1860. 

9.  NOTES  ON  THE  AGAMEMNON  OF  AESCHYLUS  (a  fragment).    By  the 

same.     Chanibersburg,  1860. 

10.  WILHELM   VON    HUMBOLDT'S   LINGUISTICAL   STUDIES.    By  the 

same.    (In  pamphlet.)    New  York,  1866. 

11 .  GOETHE'S  FAUST  (Parts  1st  and  2d).     Text  and  translation,  with  Intro 

ductions  on  the  Faust  Literature,  and  ample  notes,  in  two  vols.    By 
the  same.     (In  preparation.) 

PROFESSOR  ABLER  attends  to  a  few  private  students  or  classes  in  the 
studies  related  to  his  text-books.  Ladies  or  gentlemen  desirous  of  availing 
themselves  of  his  instruction  (either  on  their  own  behalf  or  that  of  minors)  will 
please  address  him  to  box  1600,  N.  Y.  City  P.  O.,  or  to  the  care  of  his  publishers, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  445  Broadway. 


THE     POETRY 


OF 


THE    ARABS   OF   SPAIN. 


Being  the  substance  of  a  Lecture  read  in  the  small  Chapel  of  the  University 
of  the  City  of  New  York,  on  the  evening  of  March  2Sth,  1867, 


BY 


G.  J.  ABLER,  A.  M., 

Late  Professor  of  German  to  the  University;   Member  of  several  Learned  Societies. 


NEW    YORK: 

PRESS    OF    WYNKOOP    &    HALLENBECK, 

No.  113  FULTON  STREET,  N.  Y. 

1867. 


ft* 


ENTERED  accordiBg  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  18G7, 
By  G.  J.  ABLER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  United  States  District  Court  for  the  Southern 
District  ot  New  York. 


TO  THE  READER, 

civilization  of  the  Moslems  of  Spain  has  for  the* 
last  quarter  of  a  century  been  one  of  the  most  attractive 
themes  of  learned  inquiry,  and  Science,  History,  Litera^ 
ture  and  Art  have  each  been  eager  after  new  Result s> 
some  of  which  Romance  among  us  has  sought  to  invest 
with  the  nimbus  of  its  charms.  Of  late  years  their  poj 
litical  history  and  that  of  their  polite  literature  have 
more  especially  been  favored  with  valuable  contributions, 
partly  in  the  shape  of  translations,  partly  in  original 
Works,  from  the  pens  of  savan-s  like  Gayangos,  de  Slane, 
Dozy,  Hammer-Purgstall,  von  Schack  and  others,  and  we 
have  now  an  abundance  of  new  light  on  matters  hereto 
fore  known  to  but  few  or  in  the  dim  outlines  of  vague 
uncertainty.  Leaving  entirely  aside  the  question  of  politi 
cal  history,  except  so  far  as  it  is  interwoven  with  that 
of  letters,  I  have  endeavored,  in  the  following  pages,  to 
give  a  brief  survey  of  the  immense  field  of  the  poetry  of 
the  Arabs  of  Spain,— =a  theme  long  familiar  to  us  as  one 
of  fascinating  romance,  but  known  to  us  rather  in  gene 
ralities  than  in  living  specimens  sufficient  to  give  us  a 
more  or  less  adequate  conception  of  its  real  character. 
From  this  sketch  I  could  not  very  well  exclude  a  sum-- 
mary  recapitulation  of  the  antecedents  of  this  poetry , 
.  from  its  first  crude  tentatives  of  the  desert  to  the  date  of 
the  establishment  of  the  Caliphate  of  the  West ;  and  these 
antecedents  are  fraught  with  so  much  interest,  that  it  is 
hoped  the  reader  will  excuse  it,  if  the  porch  should  strike1 

M195166 


VI 

him  as  not  in  strict  harmony  with  the  proportions  of  the 
edifice.  For  the  benefit  of  further  inquiry,  I  subjoin 
here  also  a  list  of  the  authorities  upon  which  the  little 
work  is  based,  and  in  which  the  student  of  Literary 
History  will  find  nearly  all  of  any  account  that  thus  far 
has  been  introduced  to  us. 

1.  LiteratUrgeschichte  der  Araber  von  ihrem  Beginne  bis  zu  Ende 

des  zwolften  Jahrhunderts   der  Hidschret,  von  Hammer-Purgs- 
tall.     7  vols.  8vo.     Wien,  1850-1856. 

2.  Pocsie  und  Kunst  der  Araber  in  Spanien  und  Sicilien,  von  A. 

F.  von  Schack.     2  vols.  12mo.     Berlin,  1865. 

3.  Recherches  sur  PHistoire  et  la  Litterature  de  PEspagne  pendant 

le  Moyen  Age,  par  R.  Dozy.     2  vols.  8vo.     Leyde,  1860. 

4»  Histoire  des  Musitlmans  d'Espagne  jusqu'a  la  conquete  de  la 
Andalousie  par  les  Almoravides,  par  R.  Dozy.  4  vols.  8vo. 
Leyde,  1861. 

5.  Analectes  sur  PHistoire  et  la  Litterature  des  Arabes  d'Espagrie, 

publics  par  MM.  Dozy,  Dugal,  Krehl  et  Wright.    Leyde,  1861. 

6.  History  of  the  Mohammedan   Dynasties  of  Spain.     From   the 

text  of  Ahmed  Muhammed  al  Makkari.     Translated  by  Pascual 
de  Gayangos.     2  vols.  4to.     London,  1840. 

7.  Ibn  Challikan's   Biographical  Dictionary,  translated   from  the 

Arabic  by  Baron  Mac  Guckin  de  Slane.     3  vols.  4to.    Paris, 
1843-45. 

8.  Prolegomenes  Historiques  d'Ibn    Chaldun,  traduits    de   1'arabe 

par  M.  G.  de  Slane.     2  vols.  4to,     Paris,  1862-65. 

9.  Histoire  des  Berberes  et  des   Dynasties  Musulmans   d'Ibn  Chal- 

dun  (arabe),  par  M.  le  baron  de  Slane,     2  vols.     Algiers,  1847. 

10.  Journal  Asiatique.      Paris,     1830-1865. 

I  have  in  conclusion  to  express  my  acknowledgments 
to  a  number  of  friends,  at  whose  request  and  under  whose 
auspices  my  manuscript  appears  in  type. 


New  York,  August,  1867* 

G.   J.  ABLER. 


THE  POETRY  OF  '1HE  ARABS  OF  SPAIN. 


THE  earliest  poetical  tentatives  of  the  Arabs  weije  improvi 
sations,  short  epigrammatic  pieces  produced  by  the  inspiration 
of  the  moment,  and  this  appears  to  have  been  the  only  way  in 
which  the  poetic  talent  of  the  nation  displayed  itself  till  toward 
the  commencement  of  the  sixth  century  of  our  era,  near 
which  time  the  art  of  writing  was  also  introduced  among 
them. 

About  that  epoch^  however,  their  genius  in  this  direction 
developed  itself  with  astonishing  rapidity,  and  with  such  sur 
prising  success,  that  all  the  most  celebrated  masterpieces  of 
the  pre-islamitic  period,  and  those  that  passed  for  classical  at 
all  times,  were  produced  during  the  interval  between  the  year 
500  A.  D.  and  the  hegira  (A.  D.  622),  i.  e.  within  the  space  of 
less  than  a  century  and  a  quarter.  It  is  true,  that  the  different 
tribes  quarrelled  with  one  another  about  the  priority  of  their 
distinguished  names,  but  we  have  the  decision  of  one  of  their 
own  authorities  to  the  effect  that  they  all  of  them  belonged  to 
about  the  same  epoch,  and  that  the  oldest  of  them  could  not 
have  preceded  the  flight  of  the  Prophet  much  more  than  a  cen 
tury. 

The  extent  to  which  during  this  century  poetry  and  the  poets 
•were  held  in  esteem  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Peninsula  we 
may  infer  from  the  fact  that  the  different  tribes  linked  public 
exhibitions  and  recitations  to  the  annual  gatherings  of  their 
fairs — a  ceremony  for  which  the  little  palm-sliaded  town  of 
Okadz,  about  three  days'  journey  from  Mecca,  became  more 
especially  distinguished.  The  fair  here  was  on  the  most  sump 
tuous  and  extensive  scale,  and  attended  by  erowds  from  every 
section  of  the  country.  It  was  held  about  the  beginning  of  the 
three  sacred  months  during  which  by  an  ancient  custom  every 
sort  of  warfare,  bloodshed  and  revenge  were  religiously  pro 
hibited,  and  where  the  visitors  were  required  to  silence  every 
hate.  It  was  here  that,  in  solemn  public  contest,  the  poets, 
who  were  most  commonly  also  warriors,  reeited  their  verses,  in 


8 

Which  they  generally  undertook  to  celebrate  either  their  own 
achievements,  the  renown  of  their  ancestors,  or  the  glory  of 
their  respective  tribes.  The  poem,  which  Won  the  prize  on  this 
occasion,  was  recorded  on  byssus  in  letters  of  gold,  and  then 
suspended  from  the  walls  of  the  Kaaba,  the  most  ancient  sanc 
tuary  of  the  sons  of  Ishmael,  at  Mecca.  So  runs  at  least  an 
old  tradition,  which,  although  recently  contested,  has  neverthe 
less  considerable  evidence  in  its  favor.  The  seven  great  poems 
Which  constitute  the  body  of  the  Muallakat  (i.  e.  "  the 
suspended"),  were  thus  honored  with  the  prize,  and  are  at  this 
day  yet  inviting  our  examination.  In  contradistinction  to 
all  the  previous  more  primitive  attempts  of  the  sort,  these 
poems  no  longer  consist  of  but  a  few  brief  verses  \  they  are  corn- 
jposinons  of  more  considerable  dimensions,  constructed  with 
more  artistic  rhythm  and  rounded  off*  into  a  more  or  less  con 
sistent  whole.  It  is  true,  they  are  not  pervaded  by  one  domi 
nant  idea  |  they  consist  mostly  of  a  series  of  emotions  and 
descriptions  rather  loosely  strung  together ;  but  amid  all  this 
cisregard  for  strict  unity  of  design,  they  yet  exhibit  at  least  a 
tendency  to  a  definite  aim,  and  in  point  of  technical  execution 
every  part  of  them  is  constructed  upon  the  same  metre  and 
with  the  same  rhyme,  the  latter  here  extending  itself  to  the 
middle  as  well  as  to  the  end  of  the  verse  (belt),  which  the  Arabs 
invariably  divided  into  two  equal  parts  or  hemistichs  (misra). 
All  these  seven  poems  of  the  Muallakat  belong  to  What  the 
Arabs  call  the  kassida, — a  name  applied  to  every  regular  poetic 
composition  of  from  twenty  to  one  hundred  lines.  In  other 
respects  this  may  then  be  either  of  the  narrative  or  descriptive, 
the  panegyric  or  satirical,  the  elegiac,  the  martial,  or  the  ama 
tory  kind* 

Now  Okadz  did  not  long  remain  the  only  place  at  which  fetes 
of  the  sort  were  instituted.  As  the  love  of  poesy  struck  deeper 
root  among  the  people,  the  mufacharas  or  public  poetic  recitations 
also  became  more  general,  and  there  was  many  an  occasion  on 
which  the  different  tribes  vied  with  each  other  in  their  attempts 
to  produce  the  best  poet,  and  to  celebrate  the  victor  with  joyous 
demonstrations  of  every  sort.  The  tribe  even  was  congratulated 
for  having  produced  a  herald  of  its  exploits  to  perpetuate  its 
name  among  posterity.  In  a  word,  poetry  now  became  one  of 
the  most  vital  elements  of  national  existence,  and  that  not  only 
in  the  tents  of  the  various  chiefs  or  at  the  courts  of  the  petty 
kings,  but  among  all  the  members  of  the  shiftless  nomadic 
groups,  which,  as  they  roamed  over  the  dreary  waste  of  their 
unmeasured  deserts,  made  the  Welkin  ring  with  songs  commem- 


9 

orating  heroic  courage,  fidelity  and  love.  The  poet  enjoyed 
a  sort  of  patriarchal  respect,  wherever  he  went.  He  was  not 
unfrequently  constituted  umpire  for  the  adjustment  of  differ 
ences,  and  every  one  strove  to  win  his  favor  or  to  avoid  his 
displeasure. 

Much  of  the  poetry  of  this  early  pagan  period  presents  a 
curious  and  striking  contrast,  or  rather  incongruity,  of  substance 
and  of  form.  For,  while  on  the  one  hand  we  encounter  the 
most  unlicensed  passions  of  a  barbaric  age,  and  an  almost 
unmitigated  thirst  for  murder  and  revenge,  we  on  the  other, 
find  all  this  invested  with  a  subtilty  of  speech  and  a  refined 
elegance  of  expression,  as  if  the  poem  had  been  composed  for 
no  other  object  than  that  of  illustrating  a  chapter  of  grammar 
01*  of  rhetoric  !  Surprising  as  it  may  seem,  the  Arabs  of  the 
desert  were  most  indefatigable  and  even  critical  students  of 
their  language,  of  which  they  not  only  made  themselves  gram 
matically  masters,  but  were  no  less  fastidious  about  the  choice 
of  words,  the  faultlessness  of  their  rhymes  and  other  points 
esteemed  essential  to  excellence  and  purity  of  style.  This  was 
a  study,  to  which  they  applied  themselves  from  early  youth, 
and  which  the  poets  kept  up  with  unceasing  vigilance  as  long 
as  they  composed.  Let  the  following  serve  as  an  instance  of 
perhaps  extreme  nicety  on  this  point : — It  once  happened  that 
two  poets,  Amrulkais  and  Alkama,  engaged  in  a  discussion 
with  each  other  about  th :;ir  art,  and  entertained  each  other 
with  the  rehearsal  of  some  of  their  own  pieces.  There  being 
no  umpire  present,  they  agreed  to  make  one  of  the  wife  of 
Amrulkais,  and  she  was  to  decide  which  of  the  two  deserved 
the  precedence.  The  contest  had  no  sooner  commenced,  than 
each  one  did  his  utmost  to  excel  his  rival,  until  the  moment  at 
last  arrived  to  award  the  prize.  The  fair  judge  declared  herself 
in  favor  of  Alkama,  on  the  ground  that  he  had  furnished  the 
most  successful  description  of  the  horse.  The  decision  wounded 
her  husband's  poetic  honor  so  much,  that  he  at  once  insisted  on 
divorce,  and  the  affair  ended  by  her  getting  married  to  his  rival. 
(Caussin  de  Perceval,  vol.  i.,  p.  314,  345.) 

The  pre-islamitic  poetry  of  the  Arabs,  as  far  as  it  has  come 
down  to  us,  is  preserved  mainly  in  the  four  collections  of  the 
Muallakeit,,the  Hamasa,  the  Divan  of  the  Hudseilites  (a  tribe 
long  at  war  with  the  Koreishites),  and  the  Great  Book  of  Songs 
(Kitab  el  aghani).  Let  us  now  briefly  survey  the  leading  points 
to  be  considered  first  in  regard  to  the  Muallakat  and  then  con 
cerning  the  remaining  collections  of  this  period. 

In  glancing  at  the  different  kasstdas  of  the  Muallakat,  we  are 
at  once  struck  with  the  observation,  that  none  of  them  transcend 


10 

the  limits  of  a  certain  circle  of  ideas,  and  that  this  circle  is  itself 
a  somewhat  circumscribed  one.  The  cause  of  this  is  obvious 
enough.  The  Arab  had  neither  a  mythology  nor  epic  tradi 
tions,  like  the  Oriental  or  the  Greek,  and  in  his  attempt  to  make 
poetry  was  restricted  either  to  the  expression  of  his  personal  emo 
tions  or  to  the  delineation  of  the  circumstances  of  life  and  nature 
by  which  he  was  surrounded.  And  here  even  he  limited  himself 
to  mere  descriptions;  for  he  remained  a  stranger  to  the  drama, 
as  well  as  to  the  epos,  and  that  not  only  at  this  early  period,  but 
at  every  epoch  of  his  history.  We  need  not  therefore  be  sur 
prised  to  meet  with  the  almost  incessant  recurrence  of  the  same 
objects  in  nearly  every  one  of  these  compositions,  as  for  example, 
the  perils  of  a  march  through  the  desert,  a  collision  with  some 
hostile  tribe,  the  description  of  a  horse,  camel  or  gazelle,  of  a 
thunderstorm  or  hurricane,  the  celebration  of  the  charms  of  the 
poet's  lady-love  or  of  the  excellence  of  his  arms,  and  the  like. 
Of  all  this  we  encounter  more  or  less  in  every  one  of  the  kas- 
sidas  of  the  Muallakat,  and  yet  we  cannot  accuse  them  either  of 
monotony  or  of  a  want  of  interest.  The  keen  observation  of 
the  Arab  considers  these  few  objects  from  a  thousand  different 
points  of  view,  and  his  prolific  invention  invests  them  with  a 
bold  novelty,  a  variety  and  freshness,  which  never  fail  to  touch 
the  imagination  and  the  heart. 

The  names  linked  to  the  seven  kassidas  of  the  Muallakat 
are  Shanfara,  Antar,  Tarafa,  Ibn  Kultum,  Tuhair,  Amrul- 
kais,  and  Lebid.  Of  the  lives  of  these  poets  we  know  but 
very  little,  and  it  is  not  of  much  moment  that  we  should. 
Let  it  suffice  for  our  purpose  to  give  in  outline  a  specimen  or 
two  of  their  poetry.  The  kassida  of  Shanfara  delineates  with 
masterly  touches  the  hero  of  the  desert  in  all  his  native, 
although  savage,  grandeur.  At  variance  with  all  the  world,  he 
at  the  hour  of  midnight  moves  out  into  the  desert,  where  he 
then  hails  the  fierce  panther  and  the  shaggy  hyaena  as  his 
friends.  Stretched  out  upon  the  hard  and  sun-seared  ground, 
with  no  other  companion  but  his  trusty  bow,  his  flashing 
sword  and  his  own  dauntless  heart,  he  takes  his  sole  delight  in 
solitude,  which  offers  the  hero  refuge  against  the  envy  and  jeal 
ousy  of  his  rivals.  In  many  a  cold  night  he  has  fearlessly  ad 
vanced  through  the  howling  storm  and  darkness,  attended  by 
hunger  and  by  every  thing  calculated  to  inspire  terror.  He  has 
made  many  a  woman  a  widow  and  many  a  child  an  orphan. 
But  he  has  met  with  nothing  but  ingratitude  from  the  brethren 
of  his  tribe ;  it  is  this  which  has  produced  his  present  aversion 
to  men,  and  he  now  bids  welcome  to  the  monsters  of  the  desert, 


11 

which  never  betray  a  friend  or  carelessly  blab  out  his  secrets. 
He  is  resolved  henceforth  to  live  among  the  slender-bodied 
wolves  which  plunge  through  the  ravines  with  the  rapidity  of 
the  wind.  He  chooses  them,  because  they  are  brave  and  defiant 
like  himself ! — The  kassida  of  Lebid,  the  last  of  these  ancient 
poets,  is  a  no  less  curious  little  #e?*re-sketch  of  the  life  of  the 
old  Arabs.  He  boasts  of  himself  as  always  on  the  alert  for  the 
defense  of  his  tribe  from  his  watch-post  on  the  hill-top,  whence 
he  may  observe  every  movement  of  the  enemy,  and  whence 
their  standards  even  are  enveloped  by  the  clouds  of  dust  arising 
from  his  horse's  uoofs.  At  his  tent  the  traveller  always  finds 
shelter  against  .ne  chills  of  the  morning,  when  the  reins  of 
the  winds  are  i  \  the  hands  of  the  icy  North.  No  poor  woman, 
impelled  by  hunger  to  seek  his  protection,  has  ever  been  refused 
the  comforts  of  his  frugal  home.  The  poet  then  gives  us  an 
earnest  lesson  on  the  inconstancy  of  all  things  here  below,  and 
on  the  evanescence  of  our  own  brief  span  of  life.  We  pass  away, 
while  the  stars  rising  on  the  sky  remain  permanent,and  the  moun 
tains  and  palaces  surpass  us  in  duration.  No  mortal  can  escape 
from  the  allotments  of  his  Fate,  and  when  his  hour  strikes,  he  falls. 
It  is  with  men  as  it  is  with  camps  and  those  that  occupy  them  ; 
if  the  latter  move  away  the  former  remain  desolate.  Man  is 
but  a  flash  of  lightning  or  a  flame,  and  is  reduced  to  ashes  the 
moment  the  light  expires. — Lebid  was  the  last  of  the  seven 
authors  of  the  Muallakat,  and  lived  long  enough  to  have 
an  interview  with  the  Prophet,  which  is  curious  enough  to  de 
serve  at  least  a  passing  notice.  Mohammed's  preaching  had 
already  produced  a  great  sensation,  and  while  many  were  yet 
doubting  and  even  deriding  his  pretensions,  there  were  many 
others  who  were  no  less  anxious  to  ascertain  the  truth.  Among 
tLe  latter  were  the  members  of  Lebid's  tribe,  and  they  knew  no 
better  way  to  satisfy  themselves  than  that  of  commissioning  the 
old  poet  to  inquire  in  their  behalf.  The  latter  went  and  found 
the  Prophet  in  the  act  of  haranguing  an  assembly  in  a  most  elo 
quent  discourse,  in  which  he  happened  to  repeat  a  portion  of 
the  second  sura.  The  passage,  which  is  an  extremely  forcible 
one,  produced  so  powerful  an  effect  on  our  poet,  that  he  declared 
his  muallaka  surpassed,  and  resolved  to  renounce  his  art  for  ever, 
to  embrace  Islam  in  its  stead. 

We  must  not  allow  this  incident,  however,  to  mislead  us  in 
respect  to  the  influence  of  the  Koran  on  the  subsequent  devel 
opment  of  Arabic  poetry  ;  for  this  influence  was  rather  a  gen 
eral  than  a  special  one,  and  on  that  account  remained  much 
more  limited  than  we  might  be  inclined  to  suspect.  Lebid's 


12 

poetical  successors  were  doubtless  all  of  them  Moslems  without 
reproach,  schooled  in  their  sacred  book  from  early  youth  and 
ready  to  defend  their  faith  on  every  occasion,  even  with  the 
sword,  but  we  nevertheless  find  them  at  all  times  looking  up  to 
their  predecessors  of  the  olden  time  as  the  great  masters  of 
their  art,  whom  they  considered  it  possible  only  to  rival  but 
never  to  surpass,  as  in  respect  to  the  language  also  they  con 
sidered  the  desert  with  its  old  poets  the  only  school  from  which 
to  learn,  and  on  that  account  often  left  distant  courts  and  prov 
inces  to  study  among  the  Beduins  of  the  cradle  of  their  faith. 

The  remaining  collections  of  the  pagan  period,  that  is  to 
say,  the  Hamasa,  the  Divan  of  the  Hudseilites  and  others,  offer 
us  a  much  larger  number  of  pieces,  mostly,  however,  of  smaller 
dimensions,  but  of  much  more  varied  contents  than  the  kassldas. 
We  have  here  strung  together  side  by  side  poetical  effusions  of 
every  class,  heroic  songs,  lays  of  the  martial  and  the  amatory 
kind  (ghasels),  dirges  and  satires,  sportive  and  convivial  songs, 
3Iany  of  these  pieces  evince  no  small  degree  of  lyrical  elevation  ; 
they  offer  us  a  multitude  of  striking  similes,  a  surprising  versatil 
ity  of  construction  and  a  certain  bold  abruptness  of  style.  Nev- 
theless,  the  Arab  here  likewise  neither  did  nor  could  transcend 
the  horizon  ot  his  circumscribed  ideas,  and  the  subjects  and  sen 
timents  of  all  these  compositions  never  pass  beyond  the  limited 
circle  of  his  particular  mode  of  life.  Demonstrations  of  indig 
nation  at  the  wounded  honor  of  his  tribe,  invectives  against  an 
enemy,  expressions  of  sorrow  and  menaces  of  revenge  over  the 
murder  of  a  relative  or  friend,  exultation  over  feats  of  prowess 
amid  some  perilous  encounter,  exhortations  to  courage,  with 
.now  and  then  an  apophthegm  or  sage  maxim  of  life,  and  occa 
sionally  also  sentiments  of  a  humaner  sort,  such  as  regretful 
sighs  addressed  to  a  distant  love  whose  image  does  not  cease  to 
visit  him  in  his  dreams, — such  are  most  commonly  the  themes 
which  inspire  the  poet  of  this  period,  and  on  which  he 
-expends  all  the  ingenuity  and  art  of  which  his  genius  was  capa 
ble. 

The  introduction  of  Islam  produced  a  complete  revolu 
tion  in  the  intellectual  condition  of  the  Arab  and  gave  his- 
entire  life  and  character  not  only  a  new  direction,  but  an  eleva 
tion  and  expansion  for  which  we  can  scarcely  find  a  parallel  in 
history.  While  in  his  primitive  condition  his  ideas  were  deter 
mined  wholly  by  the  impulse  of  the  moment  and  the  circum 
stances  by  which  he  found  himself  surrounded,  the  unrivalled 
eloquence  of  the  Prophet  suddenly  broke  down  the  limits  of  time 


13 

and  space  by  pointing  the  dazzled  hearer  on  the  one  hand  to  the 
seven  heavens  above  with  the  felicity  of  the  Blessed,  and  on 
the  other  to  the  unfathomed  pool  below,  ready  to  engulf  the 
unbeliever  in  its  flames.  He  was  introduced  to  Allah,  the  only 
One  and  the  Supreme,  the  terror  of  the  perverse  and  the 
munificent  rewarderof  the  observers  of  his  law.  The  delights 
of  the  Paradise,  more  especially  held  out  to  the  believer,  were 
of  the  most  enchanting  and  transcendent  kind,  and  operated 
with  the  influence  of  magic  on  the  naturally  material  motives 
of  the  Arab's  mind.  The  Koran  was  therefore  no  sooner  fairly 
introduced  among  the  different  tribes  than  it  at  once  became 
the  foundation  of  their  entire  culture,  and  so  powerful  was 
the  inspiration  of  its  doctrines,  that  they  were  ready  not 
only  to  defend  them  as  a  divine  revelation  but  even  to 
enforce  their  recognition  with  the  point  of  the  lance  in  every 
portion  of  the  world.  Islam  thus  became  synonymous  with 
conquest,  and  the  stern  Beduin  of  the  desert  in  an  almost  incred 
ibly  short  time  made  himself  the  military  suzerain  of  immense 
territories,  the  builder  of  castles,  palaces  and  cities  without 
number,  the  founder  of  dynasties,  and  the  possessor  of  all  the 
luxuries  and  refined  material  enjoyments  that  can  convert  life 
into  an  almost  literal  realization  of  his  dreams  of  Paradise.  It 
was  thus  that  within  a  century  of  the  hegira  (A.  D.  622-722) 
the  empire  of  the  caliphs  won  an  expansion,  such  as  none, 
either  before  or  after,  ever  could  boast  of  in  history,  extending 
at  times  towards  the  East  as  far  as  the  confines  of  China,  and 
in  the  West  not  only  over  the  whole  of  the  north  of  Africa 
and  over  Spain,  but  sometimes  even  beyond  the  Pyrenees  as 
far  as  the  Garonne.  The  first  seat  of  the  new  government 
was  Medina,  where  Mohammed  died  in  A.  D.  633,  and  where 
his  successor  ruled  until  C60.  In  that  year  Damascus  became 
the  capital  of  the  caliphate  with  the  accession  of  the  Ommaiades, 
who  made  that  city  their  residence  until  the  fall  of  the  dynasty 
in  A.  D.  718.  In  775  Bagdad  was  preferred  by  the  Abbassides, 
who  retained  that  as  the  seat  of  their  dynasty  until  the  extinc 
tion  of  the  chaliphate  of  the  East  in  A.  D.  1258.  In  the  West 
the  petty  meleks  or  kings  for  more  than  a  century  remained 
tributary  to  the  Prophet's  successor  at  Damascus,  until  their 
own  dissensions  and  the  many  alternations  of  the  war  led  to 
the  establishment  of  the  rival  caliphate  of  the  West  in  A.  D. 
749.  The  founder  of  this  dynasty  was  Abdurrahman,  a  scion 
of  the  Ommaiades,  who  upon  the  accession  of  the  Abbassides 
in  the  East,  had  alone  been  fortunate  enough  to  escape 
from  the  atrocious  massacre  of  his  kinsmen  and  to  find  his 


14: 

way  into  Spain.  The  centre  of  the  Western  Caliphate,  which 
was  one  of  great  power  and  splendor,  was  Cordova  (750- 
1027).  After  its  dissolution,  the  Moslem  provinces  of  Spain 
were  again  ruled  by  a  number  of  petty  kings,  among  whom  we 
must  more  especially  mention  those  who  resided  at  Granada  and 
Seville.  The  dominion  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain,  counting  from 
the  first  invasion,  lasted  from  A.  D.  711  until  1492,  that  is  to 
say,  within  a  few  years  of  eight  centuries.  The  last  stern 
defender  of  Islam  upon  the  soil  of  Spain  was  Abul  Hassan  of 
Granada,  and  his  son  Boabdil  the  last  Moorish  king,  expelled 
by  Ferdinand  the  Catholic  in  1492. 

One  might  suppose  that  so  complete  a  change  of  sentiment 
and  life  as  that  introduced  by  the  new  religion,  and  the  per 
petual  din  of  arms  with  the  intoxication  of  success  attending 
the  first  conquests,  would  have  entirely  hushed  the  voice  of  the 
old  poetry  of  the  Arabs,  at  least  for  a  considerable  time.  But 
this  was  far  from  being  the  case.  For,  in  the  first  place,  we 
find  not  only  poets,  but  poets  of  the  court  even,  directly  after 
the  establishment  of  the  caliphate  of  Damascus,  and  in  the  sec 
ond  place,  the  Koran,  although  worshiped  as  the  great  text 
book  at  once  of  the  religion  and  of  the  education  of  the  Moslem, 
and  venerated  as  a  model  of  eloquence  not  to  be  surpassed  or 
even  approached,  nevertheless  can  not  be  said  to  have  either 
radically  changed  or  even  seriously  modified  the  poetics  of  the 
Arabs,  who  in  this  respect  continued  to  cling  to  their  antece 
dents  of  the  Muallakat  and  of  the  Divan.  The  extent  to  which 
this  was  the  case  is  best  illustrated  by  the  following  little  inci 
dent  : — The  celebrated  Feresdak,  chancing  one  day  to  overhear 
a  passer-by  repeating  a  passage  from  Lebid's  muallaka,  pros 
trated  himself  upon  the  ground,  as  if  in  prayer,  and  when 
interrogated  about  the  cause  of  this,  he  replied,  "  Ye  others 
recite  passages  from  the  Koran,  at  which  ye  expect  us  to  fall 
down  ;  I  am  acquainted  with  verses  to  which  the  same  homage  is 
due."  And  this  was  not  the  sentiment  of  an  individual  only,  or  of 
a  particular  epoch  ;  it  was  the  general  one  at  all  times,  and  there 
were  even  those  who  went  to  the  extreme  of  pronouncing  all 
the  poetry  of  the  islamitic  period  but  a  feeble  echo  of  that  of 
the  earlier  golden  age. 

The  dynasty  of  the  Ommaiades  no  sooner  was  fairly  estab 
lished  on  its  throne,  than  it  already  retained  regularly  paid  poets 
permanently  at  its  court.  One  of  the  main  duties  of  these  poets 
was  avowedly  that  of  the  celebration  of  the  sovereign  at  whose 
residence  they  were  thus  honored,  and  their  kassidas  are  there 
fore  mostly  of  the  panegyric  kind.  The  poet  generally  begins 


15 

with  allusions  to  his  lady-love  and  to  her  former  place  of  resi 
dence ;  he  next  describes  the  journey  which  is  to  conduct  him 
to  the  presence  of  his  Maecenas,  and  then  concludes  with  a  most 
elaborately  pompous  eulogy  of  the  suzerain.  The  importance 
attached  to  pieces  of  this  sort  by  the  rulers  of  the  East  was 
often  very  great,  and  there  are  instances  in  which  a  single 
happy  expression  or  a  memorable  verse  relating  to  their  praise 
became  an  object  of  no  little  jealousy  among  them. 

The  number  of  poets,  which  flourished  during  the  first  cen 
tury  of  the  new  era,  was  already  very  considerable,  and  the 
respect  and  influence  which  the  most  prominent  of  them  en 
joyed  among  the  nation  at  large,  was  often  an  immense  one. 
Indeed,  it  not  unfrequently  happened  that  their  favor  was 
courted,  as  if  it  were  a  royal  one,  and  the  displeasure  of  their 
verses  dreaded  as  that  of  the  most  deadly  enemy.  All  classes 
of  society  were  pervaded  by  a  veritable  passion  for  the  noble 
art,  which  neither  the  clash  of  arms  nor  the  wild  fanaticism, 
which  at  that  time  was  in  full  blaze  to  disseminate  the  new  law 
over  the  entire  world,  were  able  to  silence  or  suppress.  We 
thus  find,  that  even  amid  the  noisiest  alarms  of  war  the  compara 
tive  merit  of  two  rival  poets  was  discussed  with  a  zeal  that 
scarcely  could  be  surpassed,  had  the  question  turned  upon  the 
most  important  affair  of  state,  and  that  on  the  eve  of  a  battle 
and  in  the  presence  of  two  armies  a  public  duel  was  to  be  fought 
to  decide  the  question,  as  to  whether  Djerir  or  Feresdak 
was  the  greater  poet  of  the  two.  This  Djerir  and  Feresdak 
together  with  Achtal  enjoyed  the  fame  of  being  the  most  dis 
tinguished  representatives  of  their  art  during  the  first  century  ; 
and  of  this  they  themselves  appear  to  have  been  so  well  aware, 
that  each  of  them  looked  upon  himself  as  the  superior  not  only 
of  his  rivals  but  even  of  his  predecessors, — an  evidence  that  an 
excess  of  modesty  was  not  among  their  foibles  or  their  virtues, 
as  it  in  fact  rarely  was  among  any  of  the  poets  of  the  Moslem 
faith.  For  the  rest,  however,  Djerir  seems  to  have  been  the 
most  successful  of  the  three,  and  he  could  boast  of  himself  as 
unsurpassed  in  every  department  of  poetry,  while  the  rest  ex 
celled  only  in  a  special  branch.  A  kassida,  composed  in  honor 
of  the  caliph,  pleased,  we  are  told,  the  latter  so  well,  that  he 
promised  the  poet  five  hundred  camels  for  his  reward.  Djerir, 
however,  not  satisfied  yet,  expressed  his  apprehension,  that 
they  might  run  away,  unless  they  had  a  keeper.  "  Very  well, 
then,"  replied  the  caliph,  "  I'll  give  you  eight  slaves  to  watch 
them."  "  Then,  Emir  of  the  Faithful,  I  need  nothing  more 
than  a  vessel  into  which  to  milk  them,"  added  the  poet,  keep- 


16 

ing  his  eye  riveted  upon  a  golden  bowl,  which  he  found  stand 
ing  in  the  hall,  and  the  magnanimity  of  his  illustrious  patron 
could  not  well  refuse  to  add  this  costly  present  to  the  rest. 
(Journal  Asiatique,  3834,  No.  ii.,  p.  IS,  22). 

As  a  part  of  the  material  organization  of  Moslem  poetry  we 
must  not  forget  to  mention  a  particular  class  of  men,  analogous 
to  the  jongleurs  of  the  Provencals,  by  the  Arabs  called  rawias, 
whose  business  consisted  in  reciting  and  disseminating  the  works 
of  their  poets  among  the  nation  at  large.  They  were  accus 
tomed  to  move  as  itinerants  from  place  to  place,  and  their 
rehearsals  were  devoured  by  crowds  of  eager  listeners  every 
where.  Some  of  them  are  reported  to  have  been  such  prodigies 
of  memory,  that  the  stories  told  of  them  border  on  the  incredible. 
It  will  be  enough  for  our  purpose  to  make  room  for  one.  Caliph 
Al  Walid  once  happening  to  ask  rawia  Hammad  how  many 
poems  he  knew  by  heart,  the  latter  replied :  "  I  can  repeat  to 
you  for  every  letter  of  the  alphabet  one  hundred  long  kassidas, 
all  of  them  rhyming  with  the  letter,  to  say  nothing  of  the  many 
shorter  pieces.  And  all  these  kassidas  are  of  the  pagan  age,  to 
which  I  might  add  many  an  other  from  the  days  of  Islam." 
Challenged  to  verify  his  boast,  he  then  recited  to  the  caliph's 
representative  (for  the  prince  himself  might  have  grown  weary 
of  the  trial)  no  less  than  two  thousand  nine  hundred  kassidas 
from  the  pagan  time,  and  was  rewarded  with  the  munificent 
present  of  one  hundred  thousand  dirhems  for  the  feat, 

But  not  content  with  the  mere  recital  of  their  poetry,  the 
Arabs  also  sung  much  of  it,  especially  the  minor  pieces,  probably 
of  the  amatory  kind,  to  the  sound  of  various  instruments.  The 
art  of  music  had  anciently  been  much  in  vogue  among  them, 
and  although  some  of  the  more  fastidious  believers  for  a  time 
made  objections  to  it  from  the  writings  of  the  Prophet,  it  yet 
soon  not  only  recovered  but  even  surpassed  its  former  popu 
larity,  and  the  palaces  of  the  caliphs  were  resonant  with  the 
merry  notes  of  the  human  voice,  and  of  the  lute  and  cithern. 
The  number  of  singers  of  both  sexes  during  the  first  century 
and  a  half  was  very  great,  and  we  have  even  biographies  left  of 
many  of  them.  Most  of  them  were  either  of  Persian  origin  or 
had  been  educated  in  their  art  by  Persian  masters,  to  whom  the 
Moslems  thus  probably  became  indebted  for  nearly  all  the  new 
improvements  in  this  respect.  The  most  celebrated  of  these 
singers  were  Mabed  and  Assa  ul  Meila,  the  latter  of  whom 
enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  the  princess  of  all  the  players 
on  the  cithern  and  the  lute,  while  Mabed  was  allowed  to  boast 
against  a  general  of  having  composed  the  music  to  seven  songs, 


17 

for  each  of  which  he  claimed  an  honor  superior  to  that  of  the 
capture  of  a  fortress;  and  so  little  opposition  did  his  pretension 
meet  with,  that  the  seven  melodies  subsequently  acquired  the 
appellation  of  Mabed's  fortresses. 

Such  then  was,  briefly,  the  state  of  poetry  and  music 
under  the  Eastern  Caliphate  until  about  the  extinction  of  the 
Ommaiades  in  A.  D.  817.  The  accession  of  the  next  dynasty, 
that  of  the  Abbassides,  initiated  but  a  new  career  of  splendor, 
superior  even  to  the  first ;  but  this  we  are  here  not  at  liberty 
to  trace,  it  being  now  high  time  for  us  to  turn  our  attention  to 
the  West,  to  the  new  Caliphate  of  the  Ommaiades  :it  Cordova, 
which  from  about  this  date  for  upward  of  two  centuries  divided 
the  power  and  the  glory  of  the  Moslem  world.  Before  the 
arrival  of  Abdurrahman,  the  Arabs  of  Spain  were  too  much 
diverted  by  the  war  to  have  much  leisure  or  inclination  for 
poetry  or  any  of  the  fine  arts,  but  under  the  auspices  of  this 
prince  and  his  illustrious  successors  the  whole  of  the  civilization 
of  the  East  was  successfully  transplanted  upon  western  soil, 
where  it  soon  began  to  rival  whatever  there  was  of  refinement 
and  intelligence,  of  luxury  and  splendor  at  the  Eastern  court, 
and  where  it  continued  to  flourish  with  a  few  transient  inter 
ruptions  until  the  extinction  of  the  Moorish  domination  in  Spain. 
Before  proceeding  now  to  survey  the  poetry  of  the  West,  it  will 
not  be  out  of  place  to  give  a  brief  outline  oSf  the  general  state  of 
Setters  and  the  arts,  as  cultivated  and  introduced  by  the  princes 
of  this  noble  line. 

Abdurrahman  and  his  immediate  successors  contributed  to 
the  material  advancement  of  the  nation  on  the  most  extensive 
and  magnificent  scale.  During  their  reign,  Cordova  grew  up1 
into  the  largest  city  of  the  West,  with  its  one  hundred  and  thir 
teen  thousand  houses  (exclusive  of  the  palaces  and  other  public 
buildings),  its  twenty-eight  suburbs  and  its  three  thousand 
mosques.  In  every  direction  from  the  city,  the  valley  of  the 
Guadalquivir  was  checkered  with  palaces  and  villas,  with  exten 
sive  gardens  and  charming  places  of  public  resort,  inviting  the 
inhabitants  to  their  refreshing  shade.  A  huge  bridge  was 
thrown  across  the  river,  and  the  immense  mosque  constructed 
whose  grandeur  and  magnificence  were  for  centuries  the  object 
of  admiration  and  of  pious  visit  to  believers  from  every  portion 
of  the  world.  The  court  of  Abdurrahman  II.  vied  in  luxurious 
splendor  with  that  of  Bagdad,  and  at  his  behest  numberless 
palaces,  mosques,  aqueducts,  bridges,  and  other  public  works 
arose  in  rapid  succession  over  every  pare  of  Andalusia.  Under 
Abdurrahman  III.,  who  was  the  first  to  assume  the  title  of  Caliph 
2 


IS 

of  the  West,  the  Kingdom  of  Andalusia  reached  its  zenith  of 
material  prosperity,  and  the  genius  of  this  magnanimous  prince 
made  that  prosperity  the  basis  of  so  high  an  intellectual  culture, 
that  the  writers  of  the  West  and  East  never  grew  weary  of 
speaking  in  terms  of  rapture  of  his  character  and  influence. 

The  general  education  of  the  nation,  as  well  as  the  advance 
ment  of  the  sciences  and  arts,  was  conducted  with  still  greater 
zeal  and  with  the  most  brilliant  success  by  the  next  following 
caliph,  Hakem  II.,  under  whose  auspices  the  public  institutions 
of  his  kingdom  attained  to  a  degree  of  perfection,  such  as  they 
had  never  seen  before,  and  such  as  probably  at  that  time  scarce 
existed  anywhere  else  either  in  the  West  or  East.  While  in  the 
rest  of  Europe  scarcely  any  one,  except  the  clergy,  knew  how 
to  read  and  write,  Andalusia,  and  in  fact  the  whole  of  Moorish 
Spain,  had  schools  without  number,  in  which  the  art  was  gen 
erally  taught,  and  Hakem  gave  his  capital  alone  twenty-seven 
for  the  special  purpose  of  educating  the  children  of  the  poorer 
classes  free  of  expense.  Nor  was  there  any  lack  of  institutions 
of  a  higher  grade;  there  were  numerous  academies,  generally 
attached  to  the  mosques,  at  Cordova.  Seville,  Toledo,  Valencia, 
Almeria,  Malaga  and  Jaen,  at  which  the  superior  disciplines 
were  taught,  such  as  the  interpretation  of  the  Koran,  philology, 
the  mathematics,  astronomy,  medicine,  jurisprudence  and  phi 
losophy,  and  the  halls  of  which  attracted  both  hearers  and  pro 
fessors  from  all  parts  of  the  Mohammedan,  and  after  a  while 
also  from  the  Christian,  world.  So  general  was  the  taste  and 
even  the  zeal  for  studies,  that  as  these  Spanish  institutions  were 
frequented  by  students  from  the  remotest  parts  of  Asia  and  the 
heart  of  Germany,  the  AndalusiaES  on  their  part  would  fre 
quently  not  shun  the  hardships  of  the  long  journey  to  the  East 
to  quench  their  thirst  for  knowledge  in  the  lecture-room  of 
some  distinguished  master  at  Tunis,  Cairwan,  Cairo,  Damascus, 
Bagdad,  Mecca,  Bassora  or  Cufa,  and  there  are  instances  on 
record  in  which  such  learned  pilgrimages  extended  as  far  as 
India  and  China,  and  into  the  very  heart  of  Africa. 

But  not  content  with  the  mere  viva  vox  of  knowledge,  Hakem 
was  determined  to  possess  it  in  a  more  permanent  form ;  lie 
founded  a  library  for  which  his  agents  were  commissioned  to 
make  collections  in  every  part  of  the  world,  until  the  number 
of  its  volumes,  for  which  he  made  room  in  his  palace  at  Cor 
dova,  had  risen  to  the  enormous  figure  of  four  hundred  thousand. 
And  all  the  books  of  this  immense  collection,  it  is  asserted,  were 
read  or  consulted  by  the  Caliph  himself,  and  many  of  them 
enriched  with  marginal  notes  from  his  own  hand.  The  personnel 


19 

of  this  library  included  a  number  of  the  most  skillful  copyists 
and  binders,  who  occupied  themselves  constantly  with  the 
multiplication  or  the  restoration  of  the  precious  manuscripts. 
Hakem's  court  thus  soon  became  the  natural  resort  for  all  the 
genius  of  the  nation,  and  his  liberality  towards  men  of  letters  is 
said  to  have  known  no  bounds.  The  intellectual  life  developed 
under  the  benign  auspices  of  this  prince  wns  therefore  naturally 
and  in  every  respect  a  most  brilliant  one,  and  there  is  no  example 
like  it  anywhere  in  the  Middle  Age.  Nor  was  the  had  jib  or 
chamberlain  of  Hakem's  impotent  successor,  the  great  Alrnansur, 
indifferent  to  science,  but  encouraged  and  rewarded  merit  in 
every  one,  except  that  his  religious  fanaticism  restricted  the 
liberty  of  speech  in  matters  of  philosophy,  to  which  before  him 
there  had  been  no  restraint. 

The  capture  of  Cordova  by  the  Berbers  in  1013  scattered 
Hakem's  immense  collection  of  books,  all  of  which  were  then 
either  destroyed  or  sold.  The  downfall  of  the  Caliphate,  how 
ever,  so  far  from  burying  beneath  its  ruins  the  civilization  it 
had  so  successfully  initiated  and  advanced,  gave  rise  to  a  new 
period  of  literary  history,  in  every  respect  equal,  if  not  supe 
rior,  to  that  which  had  preceded.  The  numerous  independent 
states,  which  formed  themselves  out  of  the  dismembered  empire, 
became  as  many  centres  of  intellectual  light,  of  learned  and 
artistic  culture.  The  small  dynasties  of  Seville,  Granada, 
Toledo,  Badajoz  and  Almeria  vied  with  each  other  in  their  zeal 
for  the  advancement  of  the  sciences  and  arts,  and  drew  within 
their  circles  crowds  of  authors,  artists  and  other  men  of 
genius  or  talent,  which  then  either  received  regular  salary 
or  costly  presents  for  the  dedication  of  their  works.*  At 
all  of  these  courts,  the  intellect,  even  in  matters  of  spec 
ulative  philosophy,  enjjyed  a  degree  of  freedom,  such  as 
in  some  parts  of  Europe  the  nineteenth  century  does  not  yet 

*  In  connection  with  this  patronage  there  was  undoubtedly  often  much 
servility.  We  have,  however,  already  met  with  instances  of  no  small 
degree  of  independence,  and  the  following  is  one  which  may  well  pass  for  a 
literary  curiosity.  An  eminent  philologian  by  the  name  of  Abu  Galib  hap 
pened  to  attract  the  attention  of  Mudjahid  the  king  of  Denia,  who  prom 
ised  him  a  horse,  a  superb  suit  of  armor,  and  one  thousand  pieces  of  gold, 
if  he  would  honor  him  with  the  dedication  of  one  of  his  works.  But  the 
author  promptly  declined  the  present  together  with  the  honor  by  saying  : 
"I  have  written  my  book,  to  be  of  service  to  mankind  and  to  make  my 
name  immortal ;  and  why  should  I  now  adorn  it  with  the  name  of  another 
and  thus  transfer  the  fame  of  it  to  him?  No  !  I  shall  never  do  it !''  The 
ernir,  who  was  a  sensible  man,  no  sooner  heard  of  the  reply,  than,  so  far 
from  being  offended,  he  expressed  admiration  for  the  savant's  independence, 
and  sent  him  double  the  amount  of  the  promised  gift. 


20 

seem  prepared  to  boast  of.  Some  of  the  princes  of  these  houses 
themselves  participated,  like  the  caliphs,  in  the  general  emu 
lation,  and  even  won  celebrity  either  as  poets,  philosophers  or 
authors  of  some  other  kind.  Such  were,  for  example,  El  Mok- 
tadir  of  Saragossa,  El  Mutsaffir  of  Badajoz,  some  of  the  Ab- 
badides  of  Sevilla,  of  the  Benu  Somadih  of  Almeria  and  others. 
It  is  true,  that  this  state  of  things  was  not  unfrequently  men 
aced  partly  by  the  advances  of  the  Christian  armies,  and 
sometimes  also  by  the  fanaticism  of  the  Moorish  allies  called 
in  from  Africa  to  aid  against  them,  yet  it  may  nevertheless  be 
said  to  have  lasted  with  no  material  interruption  until  the  very 
end  of  the  Moslem  rule  in  Spain.  Under  the  Almohades,  espe 
cially  under  Abdulmunen  and  his  successor  Jussuf,  Cordova 
once  more  regained  some  of  its  former  glory,  as  a  seat  of  letters 
and  a  place  for  books,  and  about  this  time  its  academies  could 
boast  of  men  no  less  eminent  than  Averroes,  Abenzoar  and 
Abu  Bacer,  who  long  before  our  own  revival  of  letters  drew 
the  writings  of  Aristotle  (although,  it  is  maintained,  only  in 
Syriac  translations)  from  their  oblivion,  and  with  their  bold 
philosophical  researches  won  themselves  not  only  an  immense 
cotemporary  celebrity,  but  a  permanent  place  in  the  history  of 
philosophy.  In  regard  to  books,  it  has  been  ascertained  that 
as  late  as  the  thirteenth  century  the  different  cities  of  Anda 
lusia  contained  no  less  than  seventy  libraries  open  to  the  public 
(Journal  Asiatique,  18-38,  No.  IV.,  p.  73). 

When  in  1236  the  grand  mosque  of  Cordova  was  sur 
mounted  by  the  Christian  cross  and  soon  after  Sevilla  also  sur 
rendered  to  the  king  of  Castile,  the  dominion  of  the  Arabs 
found  itself  reduced  to  much  narrower  limits,  and  the  kingdom 
of  Granada  now  became  the  only  seat  of  power  left  them. 
This  little  kingdom,  however,  continued  to  maintain  in  the 
most  creditable  manner  the  prestige  of  Moslem  civilization  in 
tact  for  at  least  two  centuries  and  a  half  after  the  fall  of  Cordova, 
and  most  of  its  princes,  after  the  example  of  Mohammed  Ben 
Ah  mar,  not  only  zealously  kept  up  their  schools  and  libraries, 
but  generously  opened  their  court  as  an  asylum  to  the  many 
unfortunate  men  of  genius  or  learning  expelled  from  conquered 
quarters.  Granada  thus  still  remained,  and  to  the  very  last, 
the  seat  of  no  small  degree  of  literary  culture,  which  was  yet 
possessed  of  vitality  enough  to  survive  even  the  fall  of  the 
Moorish  dominion  in  Spain  for  some  time  after  upon  the  soil  of 
Africa. 

The  centre  and  the  soul  of  all  this  astonishing  development 
of  intellectual  life  in  Moorish  Spain  was,  we  may  say  it  with- 


21 

out  exaggeration,  poetry,  which  for  at  leist  six  centuries  was 
cultivated  with  so  much  zeal  and  by  so  large  a  number, 
that  a  mere  register  of  alt  the  Arabic  poets  of  the  Penin 
sula  would  fill  entire  folios.  The  taste  for  it  had  by  the 
middle  of  the  ninth  century  already  become  so  general,  that 
not  only  the  Arabs,  but  even  some  of  the  Christians  subject  to 
their  sway,  occupied  themselves  with  making  verses  in  the 
idiom  of  Islam.  About  a  century  later  we  already  begin  to 
meet  with  anthologies,  as  for  example,  "  The  Gardens"  of 
Ibn  Ferradj,  the  two  hundred  chapters  of  which  (each  chapter 
of  one  hundred  distichs)  were  exclusively  devoted  to  pieces 
from  the  pens  of  Andalusian  authors.  This  collection  was  soon 
followed  by  numerous  others,  of  which  some  professed  merely 
to  complete  it,  while  others  made  the  necessary  additions  for 
the  next  following  centuries.  Such  were  more  especially  those 
of  Ibn  Bessam  and  of  Ibn  Chakan,  which  for  a  long  time 
circulated  widely  as  the  most  complete  and  popular.  We  need 
not  be  surprised  therefore  to  find,  that  under  influences  like 
these  poetry  should  have  allied  itself  so  intimately  not  only 
with  the  social  relations,  but  even  with  the  daily  industrial  oc 
cupations  and  enterprises  of  the  nation,  and  that  as  the  princes 
sometimes  did  not  disdain  to  emulate  each  other,  and  even  the 
poets  in  the  art  of  making  verses,  so  the  very  peasant  of  the 
field  took  pleasure  in  his  ingenious  improvisations,  and  the 
man  behind  the  plough  would  sometimes  boast  of  his  ability 
to  spin  out  his  rhymes  on  any  given  theme.  Among  the 
caliphs  and  the  princes  the  talent,  or  at  any  rate  the  attempt, 
was  so  general,  that  there  is  yet  extant  a  work  exclusively  de 
voted  to  the  kings  and  nobles  of  Andalusia,  who  excelled  in 
this  respect.  Nor  were  the  ladies  deficient  either  in  ambition 
or  success,  and  the  women  of  the  harem  not  unfrequently  con 
tested  the  prize  with  men.  Poetical  inscriptions  upon  the 
walls  and  pillars  of  the  palaces,  which  were  often  very  ingeni 
ously  executed,  constituted  one  of  their  most  valued  ornaments. 
The  cavalier  needed  a  verse  or  two  for  the  blade  of  his  scimitar, 
and  there  was  no  dull  novelist  or  historian  who  could  refrain 
from  spicing  his  pages  with  some  metrical  citations  or  fragments 
of  his  own.  The  talent  for  poetry  was  not  unfrequently  the 
passport  by  which  men  from  the  lowest  ranks  rose  to  the  high 
est  offices  of  state,  and  to  princely  influence  and  fortune. 
Verses  were  employed  to  give  emphasis  or  eclat  to  diplomatic 
transactions ;  sometimes  they  became  the  signal  for  bloody 
conflict,  as  also  th^en  again  the  charm  to  mitigate  the  victor's 
wrath.  A  single  happy  improvisation  is  known  to  have  saved 


22 

the  life  of  more  than  one  condemned,  and  to  have  burst  the 
bolts  of  prisons.  Rhyme-duels  between  two  combatants  in  the 
presence  of  their  respective  armies  were  among  the  most  com 
mon  occurrences  of  warfare,  while  poetic  challenges,  as  an 
exercise  of  wit,  constituted  one  of  the  standing  amusements  of 
daily  life.  Of  epistolary  correspondence  in  verse  between 
friends  and  lovers  there  is  also  no  lack  of  evidence.  In  a  word, 
the  ability  to  express  one's  self  in  rhyme  passed  for  one  of  the 
most  coveted  accomplishments,  and  the  mania  insinuated  itself 
even  into  works  of  science  and  into  papers  of  state. 

As  in  the  East,  so  also  at  Cordova,  we  meet  with  several 
poets  who  made  themselves  more  especially  conspicuous  at 
court.  Under  the  earlier  caliphs,  there  was,  in  the  first  place, 
Yahyah,  surnamed  also  from  his  personal  appearance  El  Gazal 
(i.  c.  the  gazelle),  who  w;is  honored  with  several  important 
embassies,  and  whose  polished  refinement  of  manners  and  con 
versation  made  him  welcome  everywhere.  While  at  Constan 
tinople,  the  emperor  expressed  the  wish  to  retain  him  in  his 
service,  but  he  excused  himself  by  saying  that  he  could 
not  keep  him  company,  on  account  of  his  inability  to 
drink  wine  with  him.  One  day  upon  the  appearance  of  the 
empress,  he  professed  himself  completely  vanquished  by  her 
charms,  which  he  then  went  on  to  celebrate  in  the  most  glow 
ing  terms, — a  flattery  which  raised  him  still  higher  in  the 
estimation  of  both  their  majesties.  When  on  another  mission 
to  the  king  of  the  Normans,  he  produced  an  equally  good  im 
pression  by  improvising  some  felicitous  verses  on  the  great 
beauty  of  Queen  Theuda.  At  a  later  date,  however,  he  was 
obliged  to  wander  into  exile  on  account  of  some  satirical 
verses,  which  gave  offense  to  Abdurrahman  II.,  and  then  went 
to  Bagdad,  where  his  ingenuity  and  esprit  soon  succeeded  in 
overcoming  completely  the  fastidious  prejudice  against  the 
poetry  of  the  West,  still  in  vogue  there.  In  connection  with 
the  court  of  Abdurrahman  II.,  we  have  more  especially  to 
notice  a  singer  by  the  name  of  Ziryab  from  Bagdad,  who  had 
come  to  Cordova  on  special  invitation.  His  reception  was  of 
the  most  flattering  description  :  a  superb  mansion  was  assigned 
to  him,  while  his  revenue  in  money  and  other  allowances  was 
equal  to  that  of  a  prince;  and  princely  also  was  the  display  he 
made  of  it,  he  never  appearing  in  public  without  the  attend 
ance  of  one  hundred  slaves.  But  Ziryab  was  far  from  being 
a  mere  singer  of  the  ordinary  kind  ;  he  had  travelled  extensively, 
had  studied  poetry,  astronomy,  history,  and  art,  was  a  man  of 
taste  and  wit,  and  his  conversations  on  every  branch  of  knowl- 


23 

erlge  were  so  fascinating  and  instructive,  that  the  caliph  chose 
him  for  his  most  intimate  associate.  In  his  own  art,  he  knew 
the  words  and  tunes  of  ten  thousand  songs  by  heart  ;  and  his 
singing  was  so  enchanting,  that  the  report  obtained  of  his 
receiving  nightly  visitations  from g.m'ri, instructing  him  in  melo 
dies.  The  court  of  Abdurrahman  III.  boasted  of  the  names  of 
Ibn  Abdrebbihi  and  Mondhir  Ibn  Said,  from  the  latter  of 
whom  the  caliph  received  a  most  important  service  at  the 
reception  of  an  embassy.  It  once  happened  that  some  envoys 
from  Constantinople  had  arrived,  and  they  were  received  in  the 
magnificently  decorated  hall  destined  for  that  purpose.  On  their 
delivering  their  credentials  and  messages  in  solemn  state,  the 
caliph  called  upon  the  most  prominent  of  his  savans  present  to 
reply  in  an  address  commemorating  the  glory  of  Islam  and 
the  honor  of  the  caliphate;  but  they  unfortunately  all  lost 
their  presence  of  mind  und  wretchedly  failed,  when  all  at  once 
our  poet  rose  and  delivered  a  long  poetical  harangue,  by 
which  the  entire  audience  was  transported  with  admiration, 
mid  for  which  the  monarch  then  munificently  rewarded  him  with 
a  high  office  of  state.*  Nor  were  the  auspices  of  Almansur  any 
the  less  favorable  to  poetry  and  the  poets,  in  connection  with, 
whom  he  kept  up  regular  literary  conversazione  at  his  palace, 
and  allowed  them  to  accompany  him  even  on  his  military  expe 
ditions.  Such  were,  for  example,  Ibn  Derradj,  Yussuf  ar 
Ramadi,  and  Said,  of  whom  the  latter  more  especially  rose  to 
high  consideration  by  a  variety  of  pleasing  compliments,  among 
others  by  some  ingenious  couplets  composed  upon  the  capture 
of  Count  Garcia  Fernandez  of  Castile.  Said,  however,  had 
some  jealous  rivals,  who  attempted  to  defame  him  with  the 
charge  of  plagiarism.  But  he  stood  the  trial  imposed  upon 
him  by  Al-mansur  so  much  to  his  credit,  as  only  to  receive 
additional  honors  and  rewards  for  it. 

0  In  connection  with  the  first  caliph,  we  can  scarcely  avoid  adding  the  following 
pleasant  little  anecdote  :— Abdurrahman  happening  to  be  ill,  it  was  declare!  neces 
sary  that  he  should  be  bled.  Ke  was  seated  in  the  great  hall  of  the  pavilion,  which 
surmounted  the  heights  of  Az-Z  ihra,  and  the  physician  was  just  at  the  point  of 
applying  his  instrument  to  the  caliph's  arm,  when  suddenly  a  starling  came  flying 
in,  and  after  alighting  up  m  a  golden  vase  close  by,  gave  utterance  to  the  follow 
ing  verses  : 

"  0  them,  who  with  the  la'icet  art  now  about  to  shed  the  blood  of  the  Emir  of 
the  Faithful,  be  careful,  mind  now,  be  careful  of  the  illustrious  vein,  in  which  the 
life  of  worlds  is  circulating  !" 

The  starling  repeated  the  couplet  several  times  to  the  great  amusement  of  the 
caliph,  who  expressed  his  astonishment  and  desired  to  know  who  taught  the  bird 
the  verses.  O.i  learning  that  Murdshana,  the  mother  of  the  crown-princa  El 
Hakem,  was  the  author  of  the  ingenious  device,  he  rewarded  her  with  a  magnificent 
present  for  the  entertainment  she  had  arranged  for  him.  (El  Makkari,  ed.  Orayarr- 
gos,  vol.  i,,  p.  232). 


24 

The  dismemberment  of  the  caliphate  gave  rise  to  a  new 
phase  in  the  literary  life  of  the  Moorish  bnrds,  and  one  which 
bore  much  resemblance  to  that  of  the  troubadours  of  Christian 
Europe.  The  poets  now  commenced  to  move  from  place  to 
place,  and  there  was  probably  no  petty  court,  no  castle  or 
palace  of  prince  or  noble,  which  did  not  covet  their  association? 
and  receive  them  as  the  honored  guests  of  its  refined  society. 
This  society  had  now  become  a  much  freer  one  than  that  which 
existed  subject  to  the  restraint  of  high  court  etiquette,  and  it 
was  on  that  account  extremely  favorable  to  a  generous  inter 
change  of  thought  and  to  a  high  degree  of  intellectual  culture* 
The  poets  had  many  more  Maecenases  to  celebrate,  and  the 
latter  were  rarely  wanting  in  the  ambition  to  appreciate  and 
reward  them.  The  charming  sky  of  Andalusia  was  of  itself 
enough  to  dispose  even  the  obtuser  mind  to  the  delightful 
intercourse  of  song  and  poesy,  and  the  enchanting  moon 
light-evenings  in  some  sequestered  palace  garden  naturally 
invited  to  the  recital  of  some  fairy  Oriental  tale  or  to  inge 
nious  poetical  improvisations,  while  the  soft  evening  breezes 
wafted  coolness  from  the  fountains  and  fragrance  from  the 
flowers  around  the  merry  company,  or  the  cup  circulated 
freely  among  them,  directed  perhaps  and  socially  partaken  of  by 
the  high  hand  itself  that  gave  the  entertainment.  The  man 
ners  and  customs  of  these  small  courts  were  thus  in  many 
respects  identical  with  those  of  our  own  mediaeval  chivalry,  and 
there  are  not  wanting  those  who  on  that  account  are  inclined  to 
refer  the  origin  of  that  institution  to  the  Moslems  and  the  East. 
Without  being  at  all  disposed  or  willing  to  defend  this  theory, 
we  are  yet  ready  to  admit  that  many  of  the  ideas  and  principles 
characteristic  of  chivalry,  as  for  example  that  of  honor  and  of 
gallantry,  may  be  traced  among  the  Arabs  as  far  back  as  the 
time  of  their  earliest  antiquity.  The  respect  for  woman  and 
her  protection,  the  glory  of  perilous  achievements,  the  defense 
of  the  weak  or  the  oppressed,  and  the  punctilious  exaction  of 
revenge,  constituted  the  main  characteristics  of  the  otherwise 
lawless  old  Beduin  of  the  desert,  and  this  was  the  magic  circle 
to  which  his  entire  life  belonged.  The  chivalry  of  the 
Moslems,  therefore,  developed  itself  doubtless  from  its  own 
resources,  and  we  must  also  add  as  incontestable,  that  the 
spirit  and  refinement  of  it  showed  itself  some  centuries  earlier 
among  them  than  among  the  warriors  of  Christian  Europe. 

The  poetry  of  Moorish  Spain  differs  upon  the  whole  but 
little,  either  in  point  of  form  or  character,  from  that  of  the 


25 

East,  except  perhaps  as  far  as  it  was  modified  imperceptibly  by 
the  influence  of  climate  and  of  sky,  and  that  not  only  because 
there  was  identity  of  origin,  but  also  because  the  intellectual 
commerce  between  the  colony  and  the  mother  country  was, 
as  we  have  seen,  an  uninterrupted  and  often  a  very  lively  one. 
Now  this  may  be  asserted  as  correct  in  spite  of  the  circum 
stance  that  the  same  can  not  be  affirmed  of  the  language,  which 
in  the  mouth  of  the  Andalusian  soon  lost  so  much  of  its  native 
purity  as  gradually  to  degenerate  into  an  ungrammatical  dialect, 
so  that  the  Beduin  of  the  desert  (who  by  the  way  always 
remained  the  authority  of  it)  might  have  found  fault  with 
the  speech  of  a  Moor  in  other  respects  much  superior  to  him. 
The  fact  was,  that  the  deterioration  in  question  affected  rather 
the  speech  than  the  written  language  of  the  Spanish  Moslem, 
who  in  his  youth  was  made  familiar,  not  only  with  his  Koran, 
but  quite  commonly  also  with  his  grammar  and  the  poets,  and 
if  he  made  pretentious  to  superior  education  would  have 
incurred  the  censure  of  good  society,  had  he  nof,  been  able 
to  recite  at  least  a  certain  number  (and  this  was  not  un- 
frequently  quite  considerable)  of  elegant  extracts  from  the 
classical  writers  of  his  nation  in  poetry  and  prose.  If  he  pro 
fessed  to  be  a  poet,  or  intended  to  become  one,  he  would 
subject  himself  to  a  severer  discipline  and  a  more  extensive 
course  on  literature,  nor  would  be  ever  consider  himself  at 
liberty  to  neglect  his  Hamasa  or  his  Muallakat.  We  need  not 
therefore  be  surprised  to  find  that  the  poets  of  the  West 
generally  showed  no  lack  either  of  correctness  or  of  elegance,  and 
that  the  most  prominent  of  their  number  never  failed  of  being 
recognized  by  their  rivals  in  the  East,  as  in  every  respect  their 
peers.  Ibn  Zeidun  thus  acquired  the  epithet  of  "  the 
Bothori  of  the  West,"  while  Ibn  Hani,  Ar-Remmadi  and  Ibn 
Derradj  were  each  of  them  honored  as  *'  the  Montenebbi  of  the 
Occident,"  and  Montenebbi  himself,  on  hearing  the  poems 
of  a  Spaniard  recited,  is  said  to  have  exclaimed  with  enthu 
siastic  admiration :  "  This  people  is  really  possessed  of  genius 
for  poetry  !"* 

The  subjects  treated  by  the  poets  of  the  West  no  longer 
revolve  withia  the  narrow  circle  of  the  Beduins  of  the  desert,  but 
correspond  in  point  of  variety  and  multiplicity  with  the  expand 
ed  relations  of  a  more  advanced  civilization.  The  different 

°  Montenebbi  wrote  very  early  in  life,  and  his  conceit  at  one  time  misled  him 
into  aspiring  after  a  new  prophetship  (whence  his  name  the  "Pretender  to  the 
Prophets-hip").  He  found  himself,  however,  three  centuries  too  late,  and  was 
obliged  to  remain  content  a  poet.  And  he  nevertheless  really  was  one  in  every 
sense. 


26 

collections  therefore  offer  us  multitudes  of  pieces  of  every  de 
scription  and  dimension,  and  from  numberless  authors, — lays 
of  the  chivalrous  and  amatory  kind,  poems  relating  to  the  sacred 
wars,  panegyrics  and  satires,  pieces  descriptive  of  nature  or  of 
works  of  art,  elegies  and  religious  poems,  drinking-songs,  epi 
grams,  besides  a  variety  of  popular  forms  and  miscellaneous 
specimens  that  can  not  well  be  classified.  We  now  propose  to 
pass  the  most  important  of  these  rubrics  briefly  in  review. 

The  position  of  woman  in  the  society  of  Moslem  Spain  seems 
to  have  been  a  freer  one  than  elsewhere  among  the  Mohamme 
dans,  and  she  was  permitted  to  be  a  sharer  of  the  whole  intel 
lectual  culture  of  her  time.  Hence  we  find  quite  a  number  of 
those  who  either  won  distinction  in  the  sciences  or  vied  with  the 
men  in  the  art  of  making  poetry.  This  superiority  of  educa 
tion  gave  rise  to  a  degree  and  kind  of  respect  such  as  tho  East 
scarcely  knew,  where  the  sentiment  of  love,  for  example,  was 
almost  exclusively  based  on  merely  physical  charms,  and  the 
relation  between  the  sexes  thus  became  a  much  superior  one. 
Talent  and  knowledge  were  regarded  as  attractions  in  no 
respect  inferior  to  those  of  personal  beauty,  and  it  was  not  un- 
frequently  the  case  that  a  common  taste  for  music  or  poetry  con 
stituted  an  intimatebond  of  union  between  two  hearts.  We  need 
not  therefore  be  surprised,  when  in  the  amatory  poetry  of  the 
Spanish  Arabs  we  occasionally  meet  with  an  intensity  of  feeling, 
a  mixture  of  impetuous  passion  and  of  tender  melancholy,  such  as 
our  Middle  Age  scarcely  can  produce  an  instance  of,  ami  which 
is  much  closer  allied  to  the  sentimentality  of  modern  times. 
Nevertheless,  however  true  all  this  may  be,  we  will  yet  not 
undertake  to  deny  that  much  of  the  amatory  poetry  of  thfe  Moors 
is  pervaded  by  the  voluptuous  element  to  a  much  greater  ex 
tent  than  good  taste  is  now  willing  to  admit,  and  we  shall 
on  that  account  not  dwell  on  it.  We  will  content  ourselves 
with  a  few  specimens  of  the  purer  sort. 

The  following  love-epistle  addressed  to  his  lady-love  by 
Prince  Izzuddaula  is  destitute  neither  of  ingenuity  nor  of  deli 
cacy  of  sentiment : 

"  In  mourning  and  with  longing  sighs  have  I  composed  for  thee  this  let 
ter,  my  love  ;  and  lia  1  my  heart  but  courage,  how  fain  would  I  myself  be 
come  the  bearer  of  my  message." 

"Imagine,  in  perusing  now  these  lines,  myself  as  coming  from  a  distance, 
and  the  black  letters  to  be  the  pupils  of  my  own  dark  eyes." 

"Permit  my  kisses  to  be  imprinted  on  the  little  note,  the  seal  of  which,  O 
dearest  one  on  earth,  is  destined  presently  to  be  dissolved  by  thy  white, 
tender  fingers."  (Dozy's  Recherches,  p.  111.) 


27 

/ 

The  following  ghasel  from  the  pen  of  Crown-prince  Ab 
durrahman  has  reference  to  the  idea  of  meeting  in  dreams, 
quite  frequently  treated  by  the  Moorish  poets  : 

"Let  her  be  greeted,  who  never  deigned  to  requite  me  with  a  solitary 
word  ;  who  never  to  the  wannest  salutations  of  my  heart  sent  me  the  least 
consoling  answer." 

'•  Let  the  gazelle  be  greeted,  who  thus  reciprocates  my  inclination  as 
cruelly  to  transfix  me  with  her  looks,  which  wound  like  lightly  feathered 
arrows.1' 

u  Ah,  she  has  never  given  me  hope  or  balm  to  heal  my  aching  sorrow, 
has  never  to  my  slumbers  sent  her  lovely  image  to  encourage."  (Von  Schack, 
vol.  i.,  p.  120.) 

To  Said  Ibn  Djudi,  a  paet  of  the  ninth  century,  we  are  in 
debted  for  a  few  couplets  which  in  delicacy  of  sentiment  could 
not  be  put  below  many  of  those  of  the  troubadours  or  minne 
singers  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  : 

"  Since  I  have  heard  her  voice,  my  soul  has  fled  from  me  ;  the  enchanting  * 
sound  has  left  me  but  regrets  and  sorrow." 

"•  i  think  of  her,  and  ever  but  of  her,  my  dear  Djehana;  we  never  met, 
my  eyes  beheld  her  never,  and  yet  I  made  her  a  surrender  of  this  heart." 

u  Her  dearly  cherished  name,  which  I  prize  above  all,  I'll  now  invoke  with 
tear-dew  in  my  eyes,  as  the  monk  calls  on  the  image  of  his  saint.1' 

The  pain  of  separation  is  thus  celebrated  in  a  few  verses 
from  the  pen  of  Abul  Fadhl  lyad : 

"Since  I  beheld  thee  last,  I've  been  a  bird  with  broken  pinions.      Ah,» 
could  I  but  wing  my  way  to  thee  beyond  the  sea;  for  our  separation  will  be 
the  cause  of  death  to  me."     (Dozy's  Histoire,  vol.  ii.,  p.  228.) 

Ibn  HaTiem,  one  of  the  celebrated  names  of  the  eleventh 
century,  has  left  us  not  only  a  variety  of  couplets  belonging  to 
this  rubric,  but  also  a  most  charming  account  of  an  early  love, 
evincing  a  delicacy  and  simplicity  of  feeling  not  unworthy  of 
the  time  of  Boccaccio  or  Goethe.  This  Arabic  novella,  for  which 
we  are  sorry  we  have  no  room  here,  may  be  found  in  Dozy's 
Histoire,  vol.  iii.,  p.  344,  scq.,*  and  in  Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p. 
108-114, 

Abu  Aamir  was  an  Andalusian  poet,  and  Hind  a  lady  of 
no  less  distinguished  talent  for  poetry  and  music.  Aamir  had 
collected  a  little  party  about  him  (doubtless  in  some  enchant 
ing  spot,  for  he  speaks  of  the  notes  of  nightingales  around  him), 
and  there  was  nothing  wanting  to  complete  their  satisfaction 
but  the  presence  and  the  lute  of  Hind.  Aamir  therefore  sent  her 

°The  really  classical  love-story  of  theAnbs,  howevjr,  and  one  to  winch  the 
poets  frequently  allude  as  familiar  to  every  one,  is  the  extremely  touching  and 
idyllic  history  of  Djemil  and  Botheini  which  originated  in  the  desert,  probably 
during  the  first  halt'  century  of  the  Caliphate.  It  is  repjrted  by  Ibn  Challikan, 
ed.  de  Slane,  109,  and  al?o  by  Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p  37. 


23 

a  polite  poetical  epistle  inviting  her  to  come,  and  to  assure  her 
of  good  company,  promised  her  not  only  devout  listening,  but 
also  the  absence  of  every  drink  but  water.  Hind  replied  on 
the  back  of  the  letter,  in  the  same  measure  and  with  the  same 
number  of  verses,  expressing  her  readiness  to  be  present  at  so 
intellectual  a  reunion. 

Almansur  once  sat  in  company  with  Vizier  Abul  Mogira  in 
the  garden  of  his  magnificent  country  palais  Zahira,  and  while 
both  were  taking  their  ease  over  their  wine  they  all  at  once  heard 
a  fair  voice  commencing  the  couplets  of  a  plaintive  amorous 
ditty.  Now  it  so  happened  that  the  voice  was  not  unfamiliar 
to  either  of  them  ;  for  Almansur  recognized  it  as  that  of  the 
one  he  loved,  while  the  vizier  knew  her  to  have  a  passion  for 
himself.  Abul  Mogira  therefore  could  not  help  referring  the 
impassioned  words  of  the  fair  singer  to  himself,  and  he  was  so 
imprudent  as  to  reply  to  her  in  a  few  equally  enamored  coup 
lets  of  his  own.  Almansur  was  infuriated,  and  thundered  out 
the  terrible  inquiry  :  "  Confess  to  me  the  truth,  fair  wretch  ! 
was  the  vizier  here  the  object  of  thy  song  ?"  The  lady  did  not 
hesitate  to  admit  her  predilection  and  appealed  to  his  magna 
nimity  for  pardon  ;  she  did  so  in  a  new  series  of  verses,  which 
she  recited  amid  tears.  Almansur  now  turned  his  anger 
towards  the  vizier,  and  loaded  him  with  reproaches.  The  lat 
ter,  however,  although  admitting  his  error,  excused  himself  by 
saying  that  he  could  not  help  it,  each  one  being  the  slave  of 
his  inevitable  Fate,  and  his  own  in  this  instance  happening  to 
have  been  that  he  should  love  one  he  was  not  permitted.  Al 
mansur  remained  silent  for  a  while,  but  finally  magnanimously 
replied  :  "  Very  well !  then  I  must  pardon  both  of  you.  Abul 
Mogira,  the  lady  belongs  to  you  ;  I  surrender  her  to  you." 

Hafsa,one  of  the  fair  poetesses  of  Granada,  celebrated  alike 
for  her  great  beauty  and  her  talent,  had  formed  a  sort  of  pla- 
tonic  liaison  with  the  poet  Djafer.  But,  unfortunately,  the 
governor  of  Granada  had  also  an  eye  upon  her,  and  had  be 
come  so  jealous  as  to  seek  to  destroy  his  rival.  She  was  there 
fore  obliged  to  use  great  caution,  and  when  her  friend  once  asked 
her  for  an  interview  she  hesitated  two  months  with  her  answer. 
Meanwhile  Djafer,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  her  long  si 
lence,  wrote  her  a  poetical  epistle,  siill  extant  and  full  of  ten 
der  melancholy  and  despair.  The  letter,  which  the  author  sent 
through  his  slave  Assam,  had  no  sooner  reached,  than  the 
lady  at  once  replied  in  the  same  metre  and  in  the  same  rhyme, 
endeavoring  to  dispel  his  gloom  and  assuring  him,  that  if  he 
knew  the  ground  of  her  reticence,  he  would  cease  to  accuse 


29 

her.  Hafsa  gave  her  answer  to  the  same  slave  that  had 
brought  the  letter,  but  in  dismissing  him  she  artfully  treated 
him  so  roughly,  heaping  reproaches  upon  him  and  his  master 
both,  that  the  poor  messenger  on  his  return  bitterly  complained 
of  rudeness.  The  poet,  however,  on  opening  the  epistle,  found 
just  the  contrary,  not  only  ample  apology,  but  even  the  ap 
pointment  of  a  rendezvous  in  his  garden,  and  on  that  account 
pronounced  his  slave  insensate.  Presently  the  two  really  met 
in  Djafer's  garden,  and  when  the  latter  was  about  to  make  re 
proaches,  Hafsa  hushed  him  by  improvising:  "Enough,  that 
we  are  here  together,  and  silent  as  in  days  gone  by."  (El 
Makkari,  ed.  Gayangos,  vol.  ii.,  p.  540.) 

Abu  Amr  of  Malaga,  once  happening  upon  a  promenade 
about  the  precincts  of  his  native  city  to  meet  Abdul  Wahab,  a 
great  amateur  of  poetry,  was  asked  by  the  latter  to  repeat 
for  him  some  verses.  He  recited  as  follows  : 

"  She  hay  deprived  Aurora  of  her  blooming  cheeks;  she  has  received  her 
slender  form  in  feoff  from  Irak's  fair-proportioned  stems. 

"  She  threw  away  her  jewels  to  choose  for  her  a  better  ornament,  and  put 
the  stars  about  her  neck,  like  strings  of  pearls,  all  bright  and  luminous." 

"  And  not  content  with  the  light,  graceful  shape  of  the  gazelle,  she  robbed 
the  little  animal  of  the  sweet  brightness  of  its  eye  besides." 

Abdul  Wahab  had  no  sooner  heard  these  verses  than  he  burst 
out  into  an  exclamation  of  admiration  and  fell  to  the  ground 
like  one  in  a  swoon.  On  recovering,  he  said :  "  Pardon  me, 
my  friend  !  There  are  two  things,  which  always  put  me  beside 
myself,  so  that  I  no  longer  remain  master  of  my  senses.  They 
are,  the  aspect  of  a  fair  countenance  and  the  voice  of  genuine 
poetry."  (El  Makkari,  ed.  Gayangos,  vol.  ii.,  p.  274,  and  Von 
Schack,  vol.  i.,  p.  240.) 

In  connection  with  this  branch  of  Arabic  poetry,  we  must 
not  omit  the  names  of  Ibn  Zeidun,  one  of  the  most  eminent 
Andalusi'an  poets,  born  about  1003,  and  of  his  Wallada,  the 
fair  and  highly  accomplished  princess  loved  by  him  and  cele 
brated  in  his  verses.  Ibn  Zeidun's  great  talents  had  quite 
early  in  life  elevated  him  to  a  very  high  position  at  the  court  of 
Ibn  Djahwar,  who  after  the  downfall  of  the  caliphate  was  for 
some  time  in  power  at  Cordova.  The  poet  enjoyed  the  most 
intimate  confidence  of  his  master  for  a  great  while  and  was 
honored  with  several  missions  to  some  of  the  smaller  courts  of 
Andalus.  But  he  had  also  jealous  rivals,  and  their  machina 
tions  after  a  while  succeeded  in  effecting  his  disgrace.  The 
cause  of  this  misfortune  is  supposed  to  have  been  his  relations 
with  Princess  Wallada,  who,  as  an  enthusiast  for  poetry  and 


30 

herself  a  clever  writer  of  verses,  had  great  respect  for  our  poet 
and  openly  preferred  him  to  all  the  rest  of  her  admirers.  To 
one  of  these  her  conduct  gave  so  much  offense,  that  he  medi 
tated  revenge  and  resorted  to  calumnies,  for  which  after  awhile 
he  gained  admittance  to  the  ear  of  the  commander.  The  con 
sequence  was,  that  our  late  influential  favorite  was  thrown  into 
a  dungeon,  and  there  remained  confined,  in  vain  attempting 
through  the  mediation  of  a  friend  to  recover  the  favor  of  his 
angry  patron.  Yet  he  succeeded,  after  some  efforts,  in  making 
his  escape  from  prison,  and  after  having  kept  himself  concealed 
at  Cordova  for  a  while,  he  finally  fled  to  the  western  part  of 
Andalusia.  But  the  pain  of  separation  from  his  Wallada  and 
the  desire  of  living  somewhere  in  her  proximity  did  not  suffer 
him  long  to  remain  so  far  away,  and  he  therefore  soon  returned 
to  Az-Zahra,  one  of  the  half-ruined  palaces  of  the  Ommaiades 
near  Cordova,  where  he  entertained  some  hope  of  at  least  occa 
sionally  meeting  with  the  madonna  of  his  heart.  He  next  led 
a  sort  of  erratic  life,  travelling  at  random  through  the  different 
provinces  of  Spain,  until  he  at  last  settled  permanently  at  Sev 
ille,  where  El  Motadid  received  the  weary  wanderer  with  cor 
diality  and  honored  him  with  princely  confidence  until  the  year 
of  his  death,  in  1071. 

The  Arabic  anthologists  are  all  of  them  extremely  prodigal 
of  their  hyperbolies  in  praise  of  Ibn  Zeiuun's  charming  ghasels, 
which  they  maintain  possessed  of  a  power  such  as  no  magic 
ever  owned,  and  of  a  sublimity  with  which  the  stars  could 
never  vie.  And  we  must  recollect  that  most  of  this  poetry, 
which  was  composed  at  different  times  and  from  different  places, 
had  reference  to  his  relations  with  Wallada,  whom,  as  long  as 
he  lived,  he  continued  to  celebrate  with  the  profound  devotion 
of  our  modern  Petrarch,  and  with  the  restlessness  of  Childe 
Harold.  We  have  thus  another  instance  of  a  closer  approxi 
mation  to  modern  times  than  to  the  Christian  poetry  of  the 
Middle  Age,  and  we  have  only  to  regret  that  our  limits  will  not 
allow  us  to  produce  in  evidence  some  specimens  (Von  Schack 
vol.  i.,  p.  300-314). 

*  One  of  the  most  prolific  and  attracth7e  themes  of  the  poets 
of  the  West  was  the  sacred  wars  of  the  Peninsula,  in  which  the 
Moors  were  perpetually  engaged,  and  in  which  they  evinced 
scarcely  any  less  ardor  and  self-sacrificing  devotion  than  the 
Christians.  These  wars  lasted  for  more  than  seven  centuries 
with  alternating  success,  which,  however,  at  first,  before  and 
during  the  caliphate,  was  generally  on  the  side  of  the  Moslems, 


31 

while  after  the  fall  of  the  Ommaiades  the  Christians  gradually 
and  steadily  won  more  and  more  of  the  ascendant.  But  such  was 
the  pertinacity  of  Islam,  that  its  existence  on  the  soil  of  Spain 
was  no  sooner  periled  than  new  hordes  of  fanatical,  barbarians 
cr-me  streaming  to  its  succor  from  Africa,  and  the  contest  be 
came  only  so  much  the  more  fierce  and  destructive.  There  is 
thus  scarcely  a  foot  of  ground  on  the  Peninsula  that  was  not 
moistened  with  the  blood  of  the  crusaders  of  both  parties,  and 
the  number  of  those  who  fell  in  terrible  battles  like  those  of 
Zalaca,  Alarcos,  las  Navas  de  Tolosa  and  others,  amounted  to 
hundreds  of  thousands,  all  of  them  firmly  persuaded,  on  the  one 
hand,  of  earning  heaven  with  their  devotion  to  the  cross, 
and  on  the  other  of  meriting  Mohammed's  Paradise  as 
martyrs.  The  war,  although  originally  one  of  conquest,  yet 
after  a  while  became  a  purely  religious  one  on  both  sides,  and 
on  that  account  offers  us  a  variety  of  curious  points  of  contrast 
and  resemblance.  While  the  Christians  scarcely  ever  prepared 
for  a  decisive  engagement  without  on  the  eve  of  it  celebrating 
the  mysteries  of  the  passion  and  partaking  of  the  sacrament, 
the  Mohammedans  would  on  their  part  under  the  same  circum 
stances  spend  entire  nights  in  prayer  and  go  on  long  pilgrim 
ages  to  Mecca,  to  sue  for  the  privilege  of  dying  for  their  faith 
the  death  of  martyrs.  It  was  one  of  their  traditions,  that  every 
one  wounded  in  one  of  these  battles  would  on  the  day  of  judg 
ment  appear  with  his  wound  bleeding;  but  this  blood  would 
be  real  blood  only  in  color,  and  would  exude  a  fragrance  simi 
lar  to  musk.  Nor  was  there  any  want  of  miracles  on  these 
occasions.  On  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Alarcos,  Abu  Yussuf, 
after  having  spent  the  night  on  his  knees,  saw  in  his  morning- 
dream  a  knight  mounted  on  a  snow-white  charger  descending 
from  the  sky  with  an  immense  green  banner  in  his  hand,  who 
presently  announced  himself  as  an  angel  from  the  seventh 
heaven,  coming  from  Allah  to  bring  his  faithful  warriors  victory. 
On  the  part  of  the  Christians,  it  was  Saint  lago,  on  whose  pa 
tronage  they  mainly  relied,  and  he  was  in  more  than  one  emer 
gency  more  terrible  than  thunder  and  lightning  to  the  Moors, 
who  fled  in  terror  and  confusion  whenever  he  was  at  hand. 

Let  us  now  see  what  the  poets  have  to  say  about  these  wars, 
in  which  they  themselves  acted  no  inconsiderable  part;  and 
with  what  accents  they  at  one  time  seek  to  enlist  for  the  stand 
ard  of  the  Prophet,  and  at  another  either  celebrate  a  victory  or 
give  vent  to  lamentations  over  a  defeat. 

The  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the  Arabic  prczicama 
or  poetical  exhortation  to  the  sacred  war,  in  which  we  will  not 


32 

fail  to  perceive  at  least  as  much  earnestness  and  unction  as  in 
most  of  those  of  the  Provencals.  The  author  of  it  is  Abu 
Omar,  the  secretary  of  Ibn  ul  Ahmar,  king  of  Granada,  at 
whose  request  it  was  composed  and  read  to  Sultan  Abu  Yussuf, 
to  inspire  the  latter  with  new  zeal  for  the  war  against  the  ene 
mies  of  the  faith.  Its  date  is  1275,  and  we  may  add,  that  at 
that  time  the  greater  part  of  the  Peninsula  had  already  been 
subjected  by  the  Christians. 

"Here  lies  the  path  of  safety.  Is  there  one,  be  it  in  Spain,  or  be  it  in 
Africa,  willing  to  enter  it?  who  dreads  Gehenna's  flames,  the  torments  of  the 
damned,  and  longs  for  the  eternal  bliss  of  Paradise,  where  cooling  shades  and 
fountains  are  reserved  for  him  ?  Thou,  who  art  eager  for  victory  in  this  our 
struggle  for  the  faith,  obey  the  impulse  of  thy  heart!  Go,  armed  with  hope 
and  confidence  to  meet  salvation:  and  since  thy  cause  is  noble,  there  will 
be  success.  .  .  .  Delay  not ;  for  who  can  assure  thee  of  thy  life  to-morrow  ?  The 
time  of  death  is  never  known  to  us;  but  rest  assured,  thou  never  shalt  es 
cape  the  payment  of  the  debt  from  which  no  mortals  are  exempt.  If  not  to 
day,  thou  yet  must  soon  expect  to  leave  thy  place.  The  journey  before  thee  is 
difficult,  and  one  from  which  there  can  be  no  return.  Be  up  then,  and  to  ease 
the  hardship  of  the  road,  supply  thyself  with  an  abundance  of  good  works! 
And  recollect,  the  first  and  most  important  of  pious  works  is  this  our  sacred 
war  for  the  maintainance  of  our  faith.  Improve  then  the  precious  opportu 
nity,  and  move  at  once  to  combat  on  the  soil  of  Andalus.  For  God  loves  and 
rewards  the  one  who  dedicates  himself  to  such  a  fight."  .  .  . 

*'  Who  follows  the  example  of  the  Prophet  ?  .  .  .  Who's  ready  now  to 
flee  to  God,  and  by  combating  for  him  to  purge  his  soul  of  the  contamination 
of  his  sins?  Can  ye  take  pleasure  in  the  cities  of  the  enemy,  which  do  not 
pray  to  Allah?  Will  ye  endure  it,  to  be  derided  by  the  believers  in  three 
gods,  who  hate  us  for  firmly  adhering  to  but  one  ?  What  have  we  not 
already  suffered  from  the  rabble  !  How  many  mosques  of  our  land  have 
been  converted  into  churches!  0,  the  disgrace!  Do  ye  not  die  from 
the  chagrin,  when  ye  are  witnesses  to  it!  The  bell  hangs  now  on  our 
minaret;  the  priest  is  seen  standing  on  its  roof,  and  wine  flows  in  the 
house  of  Allah,  alas!  nor  is  the  voice  of  the  believer  any  longer  heard  in  it. 
.  .  .  How  many  men  of  our  nation,  how  many  women,  are  languishing  in 
chains  among  them,  longing  in  vain  for  ransom  from  their  dark  dungeons ! 
How  many  maidens,  who  in  their  distress  can  see  no  savior  but  their  death, 
are  mourning  desolate  in  Christian  cities!  How  many  children,  whose 
parents  weep  for  having  given  life  to  little  ones  to  be  tormented  !  .  .  .  How 
many  martyrs,  laid  low  by  the  sword,  have  not,  as  corpses  of  wounds  without 
number,  covered  the  battle-grounds!  The  angels  of  heaven  will  on  beholding 
it  drop  tears  of  sorrow,  nor  can  men  whose  heart  is  not  of  rock,  be  witnesses 
to  all  this  misery  without  compassion.  .  .  .  Do  ye  not  recollect  our  old  al 
liance,  our  consanguinity  !  .  .  .  And  were  the  Christians  ever  too  indolent  to 
unsheath  their  swords,  when  vengeance  called  for  it?  Alas!  the  pride  of 
Islam  is  extinct, — that  pride,  which  once  so  nobly  glowed.  Why  do  ye  hes 
itate  thus  in  despair  ?  Do  ye  expect  a  sword  to  wound,  unless  ye  draw  it?" 

"  You  are  our  neighbors,  ye  Merinides  ;  let  therefore  now  your  succor  be 
the  first !  The  war  for  our  common  faith  is  your  first,  highest  and  most  sa 
cred  duty.  Neglect  it  not !  And  choose  one  of  the  two,  the  glory  of  victory 
or  martyrdom  '  Then  will  the  Lord  vouchsafe  you  rich  reward,  and  fairest 
maidens  will  receive  you  in  his  heaven.  The  black-eyed  hurts  of  his  Para 
dise  above  are  even  now  ready  to  bid  you  welcome  !  Who  then  will  offer 


33 

himself  now  as. Allah's  combatant  ?  Who'll  purchase  of  him  heaven's  eternal 
boon?  Allah  has  pledged  protection  to  the  faith,  and  never  has  his  word 
been  broken.  ...  Ye  are  God's  host,  strong  enough,  if  ye  but  will  it,  to  sub 
due  the  world  ;  and  for  the  true  religion  can  ye  now  but  sigh  and  silently 
lament  instead  of  acting?  How  could  ye  dare  to  appear  before  the  Prophet, 
if  he  were  to  invite  you  now?  Have  ye  excuses,  were  he  to  say  to  you: 
4  Why  did  ye  not  succor  my  people  in  distress,  when  it  was  so  maltreated  by 
the  enemy?'  Could  ye  escape  the  punishment,  were  ye  with  shame  to 
hear  this  from  his  lips  ?'  Beseech  him  therefore  to  remain  your  mediator  on 
the  dread  day  of  judgment,  and  fight  now  valiantly  for  his  faith  !  Then  he'll 
conduct  you,  brethren,  safely  to  the  pure  limpid  fountains  of  his  Paradise." 
(Ibn  Chaldun,  vol.  ii.,  p.  288 ;  Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p.  155.) 

Another,  and  in  many  respects  even  a  more  eloquent  and 
elevated  kassida  of  the  sort  was  composed  by  Ibn  ul  Abbar, 
wbo,  wben  in  1238  Valencia  was  sorely  distressed  by  the  Chris 
tians,  was  commissioned  by  the  alcayde  of  the  city  to  go  to 
Africa  to  the  court  of  Abu  Zekeria,  one  of  the  most  powerful 
of  its  princes,  to  solicit  his  assistance.  Our  poet-ambassador 
had  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  recited  his  kassida  in  the  presence 
of  the  entire  court,  on  which,  we  are  told,  it  produced  so  deep  an 
impression  that  the  prince  at  once  conceded  the]  desired  succor 
by  sending  a  well-armed  fleet  to  operate  upon  the  Spanish 
coast. 

Nor  is  there  any  lack  of  kassjdas  commemorating  the  victo 
ries  achieved  by  the  Moslem  arms  of  Spain  and  the  glory  of  the 
chiefs  that  conducted  them.  When  Abu  Yussuf,  for  example, 
directly  after  the  battle  of  Ecija,  was  entering  Algesiras,  he 
received  from  the  prince  of  Malaga  a  poetical  address  congrat 
ulating  him  upon  his  victory.  We  have  here  room  only  for  a 
few  passages  from  it : 

"The  four  winds  have  already  brought  us  tidings  of  thy  victories,  and 
the  stars,  as  they  rise  in  the  East,  have  been  the  messengers  of  thy  success. 
The  space  was  narrow  for  all  the  angelic  host  which  brought  thee  help,  O 
chief,  and  the  wide  battle-field  did  not  contain  them,  while  from  the  circling 
spheres  above  the  song  resounded:  'The  Lord  shall  be  thy  succor  in  all 
thy  plans.'  The  life,  which  each  of  us  would  gladly  purchase  with  his  own, 
thou  hast  thyself  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  Highest,  the  Eternal  One  ! 
Thou  tookst  the  field  for  His  religion,  protecting  it,  relying  on  the  prowess 
of  thy  unbending  miad,  as  on  a  sword  ;  gloriously  was  then  thy  undertaking 
crowned  by  thy  successful  army,  and  thou  hast  now  achieved  a  work  which 
never  shall  be  dissipated  into  naught.  .  .  .  How  majestic  is  thy  army, 
O  prince,  when  in  the  roaring  din  of  battle  the  swarm  of  eager  chargers 
surges  onward,  and  the  lances  break  and  whistle  all  around!  Thou  art 
God's  legate,  leading  his  sacred  cause,  and  his  protecting  eye  is  therefore 
ever  upon  thee;  may  it  never  fail  watching!  Thou  hast  adorned  the  faith 
with  new,  unfading  splendor,  and  time  will  not  bo  able  to  rob  thee  of  the 
honor  of  such  lofty  deeds!  .  .  .  May  He,  whose  faith  thy  sword 
defended,  in  his  benignity  now  shield  thee  against  every  hp-m,  and  may  he 
so  abundantly  upon  thy  head  his  blessings  shower,  that  their  fragrance  may 
endure  as  long  as  time  shall  last."  (Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p.  153.) 
3 


34 

The  laments  over  the  reverses  of  Islam  are  no  less  eloquent, 
and  sometimes  extremely  delicate  and  pathetic.  Such  are,  for 
example,  those  relating  to  the  loss  of  cities,  like  Valencia, Seville, 
and  others,  for  a  specimen  of  which  we  refer  the  reader  to 
FauriePs  History  of  Provencal  Poetry  (English  translation), 
page  454,  and  to  the  "Journal  Asiatique,"  vol.  iv.  of  the  First 
Series. 

While  the  Spanish  Moslems  were  thus  celebrating  their 
heroic  exploits  with  all  the  studied  rhetoric  and  gorgeous 
imagery  of  the  Orientals,  the  rest  of  Europe  was  scarcely  beyond 
the  crudest  beginnings  of  poetry,  with  the  single  exception  of 
the  Provencals,  who  at  an  early  date  commenced  to  rival  their 
antagonists  in  spirited  compositions  relating  to  the  sacred  war* 
The  Castillian  was  not  sufficiently  advanced  for  any  such  pur 
pose,  and  its  earliest  crude  tentatives,  the  ballads  on  the  Cid  do, 
not  date  farther  back  than  the  twelfth  century,  and  could  in 
point  of  art  not  be  approached  to  the  elaborate  finish  of  the 
Arabs.  In  speaking  here  of  the  renowned  champion  of  the 
Spanish  romanzas,  we  cannot  refrain  from  noticing  in  a  few 
words  the  great  contrast  between  the  Arabic  and  Christian 
accounts  of  him.  While  among  the  latter  Cid  Ruy  Diaz  el 
Campeador  (as  his  full  name  reads),  is  invariably  represented  as 
the  model  of  every  chivalric  virtue,  kind,  affable,  honorable,  and 
always  loyal  even  toward  his  unjust  king,  the  Arabs  give  him 
the  character  of  a  perfidious  and  cruel  barbarian,  who  fought 
neither  for  his  king  nor  his  faith,  but  in  the  service  of  some  of 
he  small  Mohammedan  princes.  In  this  light  he  appears  more 
especially  in  connection  with  the  siege  of  Valencia,  which  he 
conducted,  and  where,  after  its  surrender,  he  perpetrated  the 
most  atrocious  barbarities,  condemning  the  alcayde  to  the  stake, 
and  menacing  his  wife  and  daughters  with  the  same.  "  This 
terrible  calamity,"  says  the  account,  "  filled  all  classes  of  society 
with  pain  and  shame.  Nevertheless  the  power  of  the  tyrant 
kept  constantly  increasing  and  rested  heavily  on  hill  and  dale, 
inspiring  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  Peninsula  with  dread.  .  .  . 
And  yet  this  man,  who  was  the  scourge  of  his  time,  was,  in 
respect  to  ambition,  sagacity,  and  firmness  of  character,  one  of 
the  miracles  of  God.  He  died  shortly  after  at  Valencia  a  natu 
ral  death."  (Dozy's  Recherches,  and  Von  Schack,  vol.  i. 
p.  161-171.) 

'      >S 

We  have  already  more  than  once  alluded  to  the  encomi 
astic  poetry  of  the  Arabs,  which  they  were  so  often  called 
upon  to  write  in  honor  of  their  princes,  and  of  which  in  the 


35 

course  of  centuries  there  must  have  been  an  enormous  num 
ber  of  pieces.  We  have  now  a  word  or  two  to  add  upon 
this  point*  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  in  these  compositions 
the  poets  of  every  period  of  their  history  adhere  much  more 
closely  to  the  classical  models  of  the  Muallakat  than  in  any 
other,  and  that  on  that  account  the  reminiscences  of  the  old 
poetry  are  made  to  occupy  so  conspicuous  a  place  as  some 
times  to  be  entirely  out  of  proportion  with  the  object  pro 
posed.  Descriptions  of  nomadic  life,  idyllic  love-scenes,  or 
amorous  laments  are  therefore  scarcely  ever  wanting,  and 
it  sometimes  seems  as  if  the  poets  of  Andalusia's  luxurious 
courts  and  enchanting  landscapes  were  nevertheless  longing  for 
the  old  desert  as  for  a  better  home.  The  princes  themselves 
are  not  unfrequently  addressed  as  if  they  were  nomadic  chiefs, 
and  the  poet  likewise  speaks  of  himself  as  of  an  Arab  of  the  olden 
time.  These  preliminary  amplifications  often  occupy  so  much 
of  the  kassida  as  to  leave  but  a  subordinate  place  for  the  enco 
mium  proper,  which  generally  comes  in  at  the  end.  In  the 
panegyric  portion,  in  which  the  poet  seeks  to  celebrate  the 
valor,  the  liberality  and  princely  splendor  of  his  patron,  his 
naturally  incurs  the  danger  of  becoming  artificial,  extravagant, 
or  even  bombastic;  but  although  this  is  really  the  case  with 
many,  we  are  perhaps  no  less  often  surprised  with  an  energy  of 
expression  and  a  boldness  of  imagery  which  we  must  recognise 
as  classical.  Let  the  following  verses,  addressed  by  Abdrebbihi 
to  AbdurrahrnanllL  prior  to  his  assuming  the  title  of  caliph, 
serve  as  an  example  : 

"  The  Lord  in.  his  benignity  has  opened  widely  now  the  way  to  Islam, 
and  men  are  pressing,  crowd  upon  crowd,  on  towards  the  road  of  mercy.  On 
their  behalf  the  Earth  adorns  herself  for  fairer  habitation,  and  shines 
resplendent  as  if  arrayed  in  silk.  The  cloud,  O  caliph-son,  would  cease  to 
rain,. were  it  to  witness  the  kindly  munificence,  with  which  thou  know'st  to 
bless;  and  were  the  war  to  see  thee  leading  thy  hosts  to  battle,  it  would  des 
pair  of  stirring  equal  courage  in  others'  breast.  Before  thee  heresy  falls  pros 
trate  and  suppliant  upon  the  ground;  and  since  thou  rulest,  the  horses  willingly 
obey  thy  reins.  The  victory,  O  prince,  is  tied  indissolubly  to  thy  standards, 
when  or  by  niglit  or  noonday  they  float  before  thee  in  the  breeze  of 
thy  career;  and  thy  refusal  will  rouse  the  caliphate  to  anger,  if  thou,  the 
scion  of  the  illustrious  line,  dost  not  thyself  put  on  thy  head  the  crown  of 
the  great  Emir  of  the  Faithful."  (Von  Scliack,  vol.  i.,  p.  200.) 

To  this  specimen  we  may  be  permitted  co  add  another,  ad 
dressed  by  Ibn  Hani  to  some  other  prince.  It  is,  however, 
much  more  hyperbolical  : 

"Before  thy  horses,  when  they  storm  onward  to  the  assault,  there  are  no 
iiUls,  no  mountains,  however  lofty  they  may  tower  up.  They're  known  by 
being  always  foremost  in  the  race,  but  no  eye  ever  can  pursue  them,  as  they 


36 

advance.  The  lightning  knows  of  them,  that  they  ride  on  its  wings,  and  that 
in  swiftness  they  excel  even  thought.  The  clouds,  which  towards  the  north 
pour  down  their  fullest  streams,  are  vanquished  into  shame  hefore  thy  mag 
nanimity's  abundant  showers.  Thy  right  hand  seems  to  touch  and  guide  the 
very  stars  of  beaven,  as  they  emerge  from  lowering  clouds  of  rain."  (Ibn 
Challikan,  ed.  <le  Slanc.) 

One  of  the  most  distinguished  poetical  representatives  of  Gra 
nada  was  Ibn  ul  Chatib,  from  whose  pen  we  have  an  entire 
divan  of  verses  left  us.  Pie  was  prime  minister  and  vizier  to 
both  Abul  Hadjadj  and  his  son  Mahommed  V.,  several  times 
ambassador,  and  upon  Mohammed's  dethronement  his  compan 
ion  and  eloquent  advocate  at  the  court  of  Fez.  To  this  court 
he  had  some  time  before  been  sent  on  a  mission,  to  implore,  in 
behalf  of  his  master,  Sultan  Abu-Inan,  for  aid  against  the  Chris 
tians,  and  this  aid  he  obtained  together  with  many  compliments 
and  presents  by  the  recital  of  a  poetical  address,  of  which  the 
following  is  the  purport : 

"Legate  of  Allah!  may  thy  renown  augment  and  exalt  itself,  as  long  a* 
the  moon's  placid  rays  dispel  night's  darkness,  and  may  the  Supreme  Rnler 
of  our  fate  in  his  benignity  ever  defend  thee,  when  dangers  lower  against 
which  human  power  proves  unavailing.  Thy  countenance  dispels  the  mid 
night  gloom,  which  sorrow  casts  around  us,  and  thy  hand  showers  refresh 
ment  on  him  who  languishes  distressed!  Long  since  would  our  people  have 
been  expelled  from  Andalusia's  lovely  plains,  hadst  thou  not  with  thy  hosfe 
dispensed  abundant  succor.  But  one  thing  now  is  needful  for  our  Spain, 
potent  commander, — butthisone, — that  thou shouldst  send  withoutdelay  thy 
army  to  our  strand,  to  save  us  and  to  avert  the  threatening  cloud."  (Ibn 
Chaldun,  Histoire  des  Berberes,  vol.  ii.,  and  Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p.  335.) 

The  satire  was  scarcely  any  less  zealously  cultivated  by  the 
Arabs  of  Spain  than  the  panegyric,  and  their  kassidas  of  this 
category  are  often  so  elaborately  constructed  as  to  be  a  running 
parody  on  the  eulogistic.  Their  satire,  however,  is  rarely  objec 
tive,  that  is  to  say,  levelling  at  the  vices  or  foibles  of  men  in 
general,  but  almost  invariably  personal  and  determined  by  spe 
cial  situations  or  events.  The  weapon  was,  therefore,  a  gene 
rally  dreaded  one,  and  yet  it  is  remarkable  to  observe,  how  often 
and  with  what  degree  of  license  the  poets  made  use  of  it,  not 
only  against  each  other  or  their  equals,  hut  even  against  the 
mightiest  of  those  in  power.  We  thus  find  Hisham's  impotent 
administration  sorely  castigated,  in  spite  of  the  terror  of  its 
dreaded  regent  Almansur,  and  El  Motadid  of  Seville  is  ruth 
lessly  caricatured  by  Ibn  Ammar  in  a  long  kassida  in  the  shape 
of  a  regular  parody  on  the  encomiastic.  In  a  shorter  piece, 
directed  against  a  member  of  his  own  craft,  Ibn  Ocht  Ganim 
advises  him  "  not  to  be  so  impudent  as  to  sip  of  the  drink  of 
which  he  is  not  w7orthy,  and  not  to  soil  the  noble  art  of  poetry 


37 

with  kisses  from  his  lips."  From  this  we  must  not  imagine, 
however,  that  the  poet  was  always  safe  in  the  employment  of  so 
perilous  a  weapon.  Ibn  Ammar  wassubsequently  cruelly  assas 
sinated,  although  for  another  much  graver  offense,  by  El  Mota- 
did's  son,  while  Abul  Makshi,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  lost 
both  his  eyes  on  account  of  some  offensive  allusions  to  a  prince 
of  the  time  of  Abdurrahman  I. 

That  the  charming  sky  and  the  enchanting  landscapes  of  * 
Andalusia  did  not  fail  to  produce  their  effect  on  the  imagina 
tion  of  the  Moorish  poets  is  manifest  from  a  great  diversity  of 
pieces  descriptive  partly  of  scenes  and  other  objects  of  nature, 
partly  of  some  of  its  numberless  works  of  human  art.  Andalusia 
itself  is  sung  in  terms  of  the  most  glowing  eulogy,  and  lauded 
as  the  terrestrial  representative  of  Paradise.  We  meet  with 
verses  on  the  rivers,  the  Guadalquivir  and  the  Guadix,  on  the 
rock  of  Gibraltar,  on  moonlit  evenings  amid  fairy  gardens  or 
ruined  palaces,  on  the  orange-groves  of  Seville,  on  flowers, 
stars,  landscapes  and  fountains,  in  short,  on  every  thing  which 
the  poet's  fancy  could  invest  with  interest  or  life.  Boating- 
excursions  on  the  rivers,  especially  of  a  calm  clear  night,  are 
frequently  dwelt  upon  with  manifest  delight.  There  is  scarcely 
n  variety  of  flowers,  on  which  there  are  not  some  ingenious 
verses,  especially  on  the  violet,  which  to  the  Andalusian  was 
the  harbinger  of  an  eternal  spring.  If  the  object  described 
happened  to  be  a  work  of  art,  such  as  a  palace,  the  verses,  if 
they  were  especially  approved,  were  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold 
upon  the  walls  of  the  monument  thus  celebrated,  as  we  may  at 
this  day  yet  see  them  in  some  of  the  villas  of  Sicily  or  in  the 
•halls  of  the  Alhambra. 


In  spite  of  the  prohibitions  of  their  religion,  the  Moslems  of 
Spain  seem  nevertheless  to  have  been  any  thing  but  abstinent 
of  wine,  and,  if  we  may  credit  the  poets,  to  have  passed  the 
cup  freely  at  every  hour  of  the  day,  sometimes  even  early  in 
the  morning.  But  their  drinking  seems  to  have  been  rarely 
solitary  or  intemperate ;  it  was  rather  convivial  and  linked  to 
social  merriment,  to  poetry  and  music.  This  is  evident  from 
their  many  drinking-songs,  some  of  which  are  extremely 
spirited  and  lively,  and  not  unfrequently  a  jovial  defiance  of  the 
law.  ThusElMotadid  proposesanew  commandment,  enjoining 
on  all  true  believers  to  drink  early  in  the  morning,  instead 
of  listening  to  the  muezzin,  and  Ibn  Hazmun  somewhat  waggish- 


38 

ly  derides   the  anchorites   and   dervishes    on  account  of  their 
hypocrisy  in  this  respect. 

"The  use  of  wine  is  in  itself  no  crime  ;  the  crime  is  but  the  terror  of  the 
law,  or  else  even  our  dervishes  would  dare  to  moist  en  their  dry  palates 
with  the  cup." 

u  When  during  the  night  they've  muttered  prayers  until  their  throats 
are  hoarse  and  sore ;  say,  do  they  not  themselves  then  reel  like  wanton 
camels  o'er  the  sand?" 

"My  house  is  therefore  like  their  cells;  yet  maidens,  slender  as 
gazelles,  are  my  muezzins,  and  I  use  cups  to  light  it,  instead  of  Jaraps.7' 
(Von  Schack,  vol.  i.,  p.  218.) 

That  the  Moorish  poets,  however,  gay,  light  and  fanciful  as  they 
naturally  were,  could  yet  also  be  of  a  much  graver  tone  of  mind 
is  evidenced  by  a  multitude  of  elegies  and  pieces  of  a  religious- 
turn,  of  which  not  a  few  must  be  ranked  among  their  most 
finished  and  successful  compositions.  From  some  of  them  we 
have  poetical  prayers,  which  often  evince  no  little  earnestness 
and  depth  of  feeling  combined  with  great  beauty  of  execution  j 
from  others  religious  couplets  of  a  different  sort,  as  for  example, 
verses  which  the  poet  would  write  before  his  death  with  the 
request  of  having  them  inscribed  upon  his  tomb  ;  and  of  these 
pieces  some  are  considerably  longer  and  more  elaborate  than 
the  mere  epigram.  Keflections  upon  the  instability  of  human 
life,  repentance  over  past  offenses,  and  hope  in  a  divine  mercy 
most  generally  constitute  the  simple  circle  of  ideas  within 
which  they  moved.  That  many  of  these  compositions  must 
have  been  highly  prized  and  even  used  as  prayers  is  evident 
from  As-Suhaili's  assertion  in  reference  to  one  composed  by 
himself,  of  which  he  says  every  one  that  had  made  use  of  it 
to  ask  God  for  some  favor  had  met  with  the  fulfilment  of  his 
wishes.  We  have  room  here  for  a  few  of  the  concluding 
verses  : 

"  I  have  no  other  refuge  but  that  of  knocking  at  thy  door  ;  and  if  thou 
openest  not,  then  I  stand  powerless  and  hopeless  in  my  woe.  O  Lordy 
whose  name  I  praise  now  and  invoke  in  prayer,  if  thou  dost  not  vouch- 
&afe  to  grant  thy  servant  what  he  sues  for  now,  do  not  on  that  account 
plunge  the  poor  sinner  into  complete  despair;  for  boundless  is  thy  benignity 
a,nd  infinite  thy  mercy/'  (Ibn  Ohallikan,  art.  As-Suhaili.) 

V  In  the  department  of  the  elegy  we  might  produce  a  host  of 
specimens,  had  we  space  for  them  ;  but  we  must  be  contented 
with  a  few.  A  very  beautiful  one  of  upward  of  fifty  verses 
adorns,  in  the  shape  of  an  epitaph,  the  tombstone  of  Abdul 
Hadjadj  Yussuf,  one  of  the  kings  of  Granada,  who  fell  by  the 
hand  of  an  assassin  while  in  the  act  of  prayer  at  the  mosque. 


39 

It  is  quite  symmetrical  in  its  composition  and  commemorates 
in  many  a  pathetic  distich  the  nobility,  the  virtues,  the  valor 
and  achievements  of  the  deceased,  and  his  untimely  fate.  A 
few  verses  of  it  may  suffice  : 

"  In  the  flower  of  his  manhood  and  at  the  zenith  of  his  power  he  was  made 
to  fall,  like  Omar,  hy  the  decrees  of  Heaven.  There  is  no  blade,  no  lance,  on 
which  we  can  depend  as  a  protection,  against  the  will  of  Allah,  and  every 
one  who  builds  upon  the  fleeting  vanities  of  earth,  will,  undeceived,  at  last 
perceive  that  he  has  built  on  sand.  Therefore,  O  Ruler  of  the  kingdom 
which  has  no  end  ;  Thou,  who  coramandest  every  one  of  us  and  predeter- 
ininest  his  lot,  vouchsafe  to  spread  the  veil  of  thy  benignity  over  all  our 
faults  !  For,  without  thy  compassion  we  all  would  have  to  tremble  before 
our  guilt.  And  lead  the  Emir  of  the  Faithful,  enveloped  by  the  robe  of  thy 
boundless  mercy,  into  the  mansions  of  eternal  bliss.  True  happiness  and  life 
that  never  ends  can  only  be  found  with  thee,  O  Allah  !  The  world  is  but 
an  evanescent  show,  which,  as  it- deceives,  destroys  itself."  (Von  Schack, 
vol.  i.  p.  213.) 

An  elegy  on  his  own  blindness  was  composed  by  the  unfor 
tunate  Abul  Makshi,  who  lived  afc  the  time  of  Abdurrahman  I.,' 
and  was  most  cruelly  deprived  of  his  eyes  at  the  command  of 
Prince  Suleiman  for  having  in  some  verses  addressed  to  him  allow 
ed  himself  some  offensive  allusions  to  his  brother  Hisham.  On 
having  finished  his  piece,  the  poet  obtained  admission  to  the 
caliph  and  recited  his  verses,  by  which,  we  are  told,  Abdurrah 
man  was  moved  to  tears,  and  gave  him  two  thousand  dinars, 
one  thousand  for  each  eye, — a  compensation,  to  which  Hisham 
himself  after  his  accession  was  so  compassionate  as  t}  add  an 
equal  amount  (Journal  Asiatique,  1856,  No.  II.,  p.  476).  Among 
the  Moors  themselves,  the  elegy  composed  by  Ibn  Abdun  on 
the  fall  of  the  dynasty  of  Badajoz  was  one  of  the  most  highly 
prized,  but  it  is  too  elaborate  and  artificial  to  be  equally  to 
our  taste.  Among  those  which  are  really  pathetic  and  sublime 
we  may  again  mention  that  on  the  decline  of  Islam  in  Spain 
already  spoken  of  on  page  34.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  Abul 
Beka  Salih,  and  was  occasioned  by  the  taking  of  Cordova  and 
Seville  by  Ferdinand  the  Catholic. 

Among  all  the  compositions  of  this  class,  however,  there  is 
perhaps  nothing  more  beautiful  and  touching  than  the  elegies 
written  during  his  imprisonment  by  El  Motamid,  the  unfortu 
nate  emir  of  Seville,  and  we  can  therefore  scarcely  refrain  from 
reproducing  a  specimen  or  two  from  them.  But  we  have  in 
the  first  place  to  premise  a  word  concerning  the  most  romantic 
life  and  adventures  of  this  prince. 

El  Motamid  was  a  member  of  the  glorious  dynasty  of  the 
Abbadides,  which  for  a  long  time  elevated  Seville  into  rivalry 


40 

with  the  Cordova  of  the  caliphate,  and  which  in  every  respect 
was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  centres  of  Moslem  civilization  in 
the  West.  He  was  the  son  of  El  Motadid,  who  commenced  to 
rule  in  1043, — a  cruel  and  most  treacherous  sybarite,  but  never 
theless  a  great  amateur  of  poetry  and  himself  a  writer  of  verses. 
In  early  youth  El  Motamid  was  fonder  of  his  enjoyments  than 
of  his  arms,  and  a  culpable  defeat  before  Malaga,  where  he  had 
been  sent  to  fight,  incensed  the  father  so  much,  that  the  young 
prince  had  no  little  difficulty  in  escaping  from  his  punishment 
tv  Silves,  where  he  then  lived  for  some  years  in  exile,  until  he 
finally  appeased  the  wrath  of  the  offended  parent  by  addressing 
to  him  a  number  of  poetical  epistles.  He  had,  however,  on 
sooner  succeeded  to  the  throne,  in  1069,  than  he  not  only  at 
once  evinced  a  much  nobler  temper  and  a  far  greater  poetical 
talent  than  his  father,  but  he  also  presently  proved  himself 
much  more  of  a  warrior  by  the  conquest  of  Cordova,  which  he 
then  added  to  his  kingdom. 

The  first  period  of  El  Motamid's  reign  was  one  of  the  sun 
niest  prosperity,  and  he  was  so  brilliantly  surrounded  by  every 
thing  in  the  shape  of  material  and  intellectual  refinement,  that 
the  historians  of  the  West  have  almost  as  many  anecdotes 
to  relate  of  it  as  those  of  the  East  have  left  us  concerning  the 
life  of  Harun  ar  Rashid. 

u  El  Motamid,"  says  Ibn  Challikan,  "  was  the  most  generous, 
hospitable,  magnanimous  and  powerful  of  all  the  princes  of 
Spain,  and  his  court  the  most  popular  place  of  repose  for  trav 
ellers  and  the  resort  of  talent  of  every  kind;  in  a  word,  the 
point  upon  which  the  hopes  of  all  were  centred,  so  that  no 
court  of  any  other  ruler  of  that  time  could  boast  of  being 
frequented  by  an  equal  number  of  poets  and  men  of  learning. " 
And  in  all  this  El  Motamid  was  far  from  being  a  mere  Maecenas 
or  an  idle  spectator ;  his  intellect  was  as  alive  and  active  as 
any.  It  was  during  these  halcyon  days  of  his  existence  that 
he  improvised  a  series  of  poetical  effusions,  which  in  point  of 
natural  ease  and  graceful  elegance  are  not  inferior  to  any  of 
his  time,  and  of  which  his  biographers  have  left  us  a  minute 
account.  All  of  these  pieces  originated  at  some  one  of  his  favorite 
places  of  resort,  palaces  in  the  city  or  on  the  river,  such  as 
El  Mubarak,  El  Mukarram,  Az-Zoraya,  Az-Zahi  and  several 
others. 

The  first  shadow  cast  upon  this  Eldorado  life  of  El  Motamid 
was  the  tragical  death  of  his  son  Abbad,  whom  he  had  ap 
pointed  governor  of  Cordova,  but  only,  it  would  seem,  to  lose 
.kirn  in  an  insurrection  led  by  Ibn  Okasha,  a  native  of  the  city. 


41 

The  father  was  frantic  and  ordered  the  rebel  to  be  nailed  to  the 
cross  (a  punishment  which  some  time  before  he  had  attempted 
to  inflict  on  a  thief),  suspecting  but  little  how  many  additional 
calamities  he  had  yet  before  him,  to  which  the  present  was 
but  the  ominous  prelude.  About  that  time  the  cause  of  the 
Christians  had  been  making  new  advances,  and  Alphonso  VL 
of  Castile  had  succeeded  in  making  all  the  Mohammedan 
princes  tributary  to  his  power,  El  Motamid  included.  But 
not  content  with  the  payment  of  tribute,  Alphonso  after  a 
while  sent  an  embassy  to  Seville  demanding  of  its  king  a  sur 
render  of  his  fortresses.  This  was  too  much  for  our  El  Motamid, 
who  in  his  indignation  beat  the  ambassador  and  ordered  his 
companions  executed.  The  outrage  naturally  gave  rise  to  new 
preparations  for  war,  and  the  siege  of  Seville  was  contem 
plated.  In  this  emergency  the  Moslem  sheikhs,  afraid  of  com 
bating  Alphonso's  force  alone,  concluded  to  apply  for  aid  to 
Yussuf  Ibn  Tashfin,  the  king  of  Morocco,  and  in  1086  El  Mo 
tamid  himself  went  over,  to  be  surer  of  success.  Yussuf 
agreed,  and  at  ohce  collected  a  large  force  of  cavalry  and  foot, 
with  which  he  shortly  after  won  for  his  confederates  a  most 
brilliant  victory  in  the  bloody  battle  of  Zalaka  (1085),  from 
which  Alphonso  had  a  narrow  escape.  But  Yussuf  was  as 
treacherous  as  he  was  cruel  and  fanatical  (he  had  sent  the 
heads  of  tens  of  thousands  of  slain  Christians  to  the  different 
cities  of  Spain  and  Africa),  and  returned  to  Africa  only  to  plot 
treason  against  his  allies  on  the  other  side.  After  a  series  of 
preliminary  manoeuvres,  in  which  he  yet  pretended  to  be  El 
Jlotamid's  friend,  he  finally  threw  off  the  mask  completely,  and 
after  the  capture  of  fort  Tarifa  commanded  himself  proclaimed 
master  of  Andalusia  in  1090.  He  next  took  Cordova,  in  the 
defense  of  which  Mamun,  one  of  El  Motamid's  sons,  lost  his 
life,  and  then  Seville,  which  its  king  defended  only  with  the 
loss  of  an  additional  son,  and  where  he  presently  had  to  wit 
ness  all  his  palaces  devastated  by  the  fanatically  barbarous 
enemy.  El  Motamid  himself  was  taken  prisoner  with  his  entire 
family  and  sent  in  chains  to  Africa,  where  he  was  doomed  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  a  dungeon  at  Agmat,  a  city 
some  distance  southeast  of  Morocco.  In  this  condition  he  re 
mained  until  he  was  released  by  death  in  1095.  One  of  his 
daughters  was  subsequently  sold  into  slavery  at  Seville  and  one 
of  his  grandsons  became  a  jeweller  somewhere  else  in  Spain. 

The  keen  reverses  of  fortune  experienced  by  El  Motamid 
did  not  fail  to  produce  a  profound  impression  on  his  mind,  and 
he  almost  sunk  beneath  the  weight  of  his  afflictions.  Yet  he 


42 

endeavored  to  console  himself,  like  a  man  of  intellect  and  heart,, 
by  giving  vent  to  his  grief  in  a  series  of  poetical  effusions  which 
we  have  already  characterized  as  elegies,  and  which  are  yet 
esteemed  as  among  the  most  perfect  of  his  nation's  literature. 
They  generally  link  themselves  either  to  some  reminiscence  of 
his  former  life  or  to  some  incident  of  his  imprisonment,  of  which 
his  biographers  offer  us  a  minute  account.  A  flock  of  wild 
pigeons,  for  example,  passing  by  the  window  of  his  dungeon, 
gave  rise  to  the  following  reflections  : 

"  As  in  my  sorrow  I  witnessed  the  pigeons  flying  by  my  prison,  I  thought, 
while  tears  descended  from  my  cheeks  :  ah,  they  are  not  in  chains,  are  not 
incarcerated,  like  myself!  And,  by  the  eternal  hoavens!  I  thought  not  so 
from  envy, — no,  only  from  the  desire  of  being  free  and  happy  like  them 
selves,  able  to  move  about  wherever  I  might  wish ;  that  heaven  might 
grant  me  the  boon  of  happier  fortune  like  their  own,  and  I  not  here  in  soli 
tude  might  be  obliged  to  languish  in  my  chains,  heart-broken  and  deserted. 
Alas!  these  pigeons,  who  know  no  sorrow  and  whom  no  distance  separates 
from  their  kind, — they  do  not,  like  myself,  pass  dreary  nights  in  terror,  nor 
is  their  mind  disturbed  with  apprehensions,  like  my  own,  when  the  gaolers 
approach  my  door  and  move  the  clattering  bolt.  Thus  Fate  has  from 
eternity  decreed  it  over  me,  that  I  should  end  in  prison,  deprived  of  all  the 
dignity  and  splendor  of  my  reign  1  Let  whoever  may,  love  life,  loaded  by 
the  weight  of  chains!  As  for  myself,  1  can  do  nothing  in  my  distress  but 
long  most  ardently  for  my  deliverer  in  death.  But  as  for  you,  dear  pigeons, 
may  God  protect  you,  and  may  no  falcon  rob  you  of  your  young,  as  they've 
robbed  me,  whose  anguish  ever  bleeds  anew,  when  I  reflect  how  ruthlessly 
iny  dear  ones  have  been  torn  from  me." 

On  hearing  one  day,  that  one  of  his  sons  had  headed  a  re 
volt  in  Andalusia  against  the  robber  on  his  father's  throne,  he 
improvised  the  following  : 

"And  must  my  sword-blade  thus  grow  old  without  a  blow,  although  I 
daily  brandish  it,  eager  for  combat  ?  And  must  my  lance  thus  rust  in  indo 
lent  repose,  instead  of  tasting  red  blood  from  the  enemy,  and  thirst  in  vain 
after  its  wonted  drink  ?  And  shall  the  charger  of  the  unhappy  prince  never 
again  foam  underneath  its  rider?  No!  it  never  will  again  obey  my  reins  to 
hurry  me  onward  ;  for  it  has  shuddering  scent  of  enemies  lurking  concealed 
in  ambush.  But,  if  none  have  pity  on  the  sword,  to  satisfy  its  languid  crav 
ings  for  its  drink;  if  it  be  fated  that  my  polished  lance-point  shall  grow 
diseased  from  shame,  unable  to  endure  its  disgrace, — then  mayst  thou, 
Mother 'Earth,  at  any  rate  soon  have  compassion  on  thy  poor  sorrow-stricken 
son !  Vouchsafe  thy  child  a  little  place  upon  thy  bosom,  and  let  him  in 
the  grave  find  ample  repose  1" 

In  one  of  these  elegies,  El  Motamid  contrasts  the  clinking  of 
his  chains  with  the  music  of  the  fair  singers  by  which  he  once 
was  surrounded.  In  another  he  laments  over  the  Iocs  of  a 
cherished  son,  and  over  the  wretched  aspect  of  his  daughters, 
whom  he  perceives  disfigured  by  hunger  and  in  rags,  obliged  to 
earn  their  livelihood  by  spinning  at  Agmat — one  even  at  the 


43 

house  of  some  one  formerly  in  her  father's  service.  But  on 
these  couplets  we  have  no  room  here  to  dwell.  We  will  con 
tent  ourselves  with  a  few  more  passages  from  his  lines  to  Az- 
Zahi,  the  superb  and  beautifully  located  palace  on  the  Guadal 
quivir,  where  he  had  spent  many  a  delightful  hour  : 

*'  O'er  me,  the  prisoner  on  Maghrib's  strand,  the  orphaned  throne  of  my 
dear  country  weeps;  so  do  the  pulpits  of  the  mosques  in  Spain  weep  over  my 
calamity.  The  sword  and  lance,  which  once  I  brandished  high,  are  now 
draped  in  deep  mourning  o'er  their  loss,  and  Fortune,  which  on  others  smiles, 
has  tied  from  me.  .  .  .  O,  were  I,  free  from  chains,  once  more  permitted  to 
see  my  home  and  its  familiar  retreats !  O,  could  I  pass  again,  as  formerly, 
my  nights  along  the  rapid  Guadalquivir,  reposing  in  the  olive4hicket  near 
the  pond,  while  round  me  the  soft  evening-breezes  dallied  with  the  branches 
of  the  myrtle  and  in  its  foliage  the  turtle-dove  cooed  her  sweet  song!  And 
that  my  eyes  again  might  light  upon  Az-Zahi's  and  Zoraya's  majestic  piles  ! 
Could  they  but  see  me,  they  would  delighted  stretch  out  their  pinnacles,  like 
arms,  to  meet  me,  and  my  Az-Zahi  would  in  eager  haste  long  to  embrace  me, 
as  a  groom  his  bride!  But  all  this  now  seems  quite  impossible  to  me,  and 
yet  God  sometimes  works  even  the  impossible." 

Among  El  Motamid's  cotemponiries  we  can  scarcely  omit 
mentioning  the  equally  talented  and  excentric  adventurer  Ibn 
Am  mar,  whom  his  genius  raised  from  the  obscurest  origin  to  the 
command  of  armies,  the  intimacy  of  princes,  nay,  to  the  emin 
ence  of  princely  rank  itself.  He  was  a  poet  of  no  ordinary 
merit,  although  of  a  skeptical  turn  of  mind  ;  in  succession  the 
confidential  vizier,  the  ambassador,  and  chief  commander  at  the 
court  of  Seville,  and  for  some  time  the  royal  governor  of  Silves, 
but  by  his  ambition  misled  into  treason,  and  on  that  account 
eventually  murdered  in  prison  by  the  hand  of  El  Motamid 
himself. 

In  addition  to  the  varieties  of  poetry  thus  far  enumerated, 
the  different  anthologies  offer  us  several  others  of  the  minor 
sort,  such  as  epigrams,  gnomic  verses,  apophthegms  and  inscrip 
tions  of  every  shade  and  hue,  besides  an  immense  number  of 
pieces  that  do  not  admit  of  definite  classification.  From  these 
we  might  select  many  a  specimen  of  ingenuity  or  elegance,  per 
haps  even  many  a  literary  curiosity,  were  our  limits  not  already 
passed.  To  the  drama  and  the  epos  the  Moslems  of  the  East 
and  West  and  of  every  period  of  their  history  remained  almost 
entire  strangers,  and  even  of  the  epic  ballad  or  romanza,  as  it 
existed  in  Christian  Spain,  and  much  earlier  in  northern  Europe, 
there  is  scarcely  a  real  vestige  to  be  found  among  them.  And 
the  reason  of  this  was  not  because  there  was  no  popular  poetry 
among  them,  but  because  the  origin,  the  development  and 
genius  of  their  poetry  was  a  peculiar  one  and  in  fact  entirely 
sui  generis.  As  to  the  existence  of  a  popular  poetry,  that  is  to 


44 

say,  of  a  poetry  of  and  for  the  masses  and  in  the  common  dia 
lect,  and  that  of  a  very  extensive  one,  among  the  Arabs  of 
Spain,  there  cannot  be  the  slightest  doubt ;  for  not  only,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  was  even  the  peasant  behind  the  plough  am 
bitious  to  make  verses,  but  there  are  also  several  distinct  poetical 
varieties  or  forms,  such  as  the  zadjal  and  the  muwushaha,  which 
are  designated  as  peculiar  to  the  people,  and  in  which  the  poets 
of  the  court  not  unfrequently  wrote  pieces  destined  for  a  wider 
circulation  among  the  millions  at  large. 

Among  the  Moslem  poets  of  Andalusia  it  is  customary  also 
"to  include  those  of  the  north  of  Africa  and  of  the  islands, 
especially  of  Sicily,  where  there  was  a  large  number,  and  some 
of  them  of  considerable  distinction.  Such  was,  for  example, 
Ibn  Hamdis  of  Syracuse,  from  the  eleventh  century,  one  of  El 
Motamid's  friends,  and  the  author  of  a  great  variety  of  pieces  of 
far  more  than  ordinary  merit,  among  others  of  several  long 
kassidas  inscribed  by  way  of  ornament  upon  the  walls  and 
ceilings  of  one  of  Prince  Almansur's  superb  palaces  at  Bugia. 
Blind  and  unfortunate  in  his  old  age,  he  compared  himself  to 
the  eagle  no  longer  able  to  fly,  and  to  whom  his  young  are 
obliged  to  fetch  his  nourishment.  To  the  name  of  Ibn  Hamdis 
we  may  add,  as  likewise  of  Sicily,  those  of  Ibn  Tubi,  Ibn  Tazi, 
Bellanobi,  Abul  Arab,  Ibn  Kaffa,  Ibn  Omar,  Ibn  Daw,  and 
Abdurrahman  of  Trapani.  The  entire  number  of  Western  poets, 
of  whom  Von  Hammer-Purgstall  has  given  biographical  notices 
with  specimens  of  their  writings  in  the  fifth,  sixth  and  seventh 
volumes  of  his  history,  amounts  to  upward  of  three  hundred  and 
thirty. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  and  striking  peculiarities  of  the 
poetry  of  the  Arabs  both  of  the  East  and  West  is,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  its  originality.  It  developed  itself  from  the 
outset  entirely  out  of  its  own  resources,  and  never  at  any  period 
of  its  history  did  it  become  subject  to  any  foreign  influences 
whatsoever.  To  such  an  extent  is  this  so,  that  one  of  their 
most  learned  and  cleverest  writers,  Ibn  Chaldun,  probably  only 
repeats  hearsay,  when  in  his  chapter  on  Arabic  poetry  he  alludes 
to  that  of  the  Persians  and  the  Greeks  and  speaks  of  Aristotle  as 
mentioning  and  praising  Homer.  It  is  true,  that  the  Arabs  have 
enjoyed  the  reputation  of  having  known  the  Greeks  at  a  time 
when  elsewhere  in  Europe  they  were  entirely  forgotten,  but 
their  knowledge  was  confined  almost  exclusively  to  philosoph 
ical  and  strictly  scientific  works,  and  these  even  they  derived 
not  from  the  original,  but  from  some  Syriac  translations  at  their 
command.  In  every  other  respect,  that  is  to  say,  in  every  thing 


45 

relating  to  the  history,  mythology  and  poetry  of  other  nations 
they  exhibited  the  most  astonishing  ignorance.  What  wonder 
then,  that  a  philosopher  of  no  less  eminence  than  Averroes 
should  in  his  paraphrase  of  Aristotle's  Poetics  substitute  the 
names  of  Antar,  Amrulkais,  Montenebbi,  &c.,  in  place  of  those 
of  Homer,  Euripides  and  Sophocles,  and  that  he  should  have  so 
little  conception  of  the  character  of  Greek  literature  as  to  de 
fine  tragedy  "  the  art  to  praise,"  and  comedy  "  the  art  to 
blame,"  and  upon  the  basis  of  this  monstrous  assumption  to 
claim  for  the  panegyric  and  satirical  kassidas  of  his  nation  a 
place  by  the  side  of  the  high  tragedies  and  comedies  of  the 
old  Greeks? !  Nevertheless,  however  true  it  maybe,  that  the 
Arabs  on  account  of  their  adherence  to  their  own  antecedents 
and  their  neglect  to  learn  from  others,  should  have  entirely  failed 
in  the  highest  forms  of  poetry,  it  is  yet  equally  undeniable  that 
in  those  forms  which  they  cultivated  and  developed  among  them 
selves,  which  we  have  seen  to  be  the  lyrical,  they  really  rose  to 
a  very  high  degree  of  perfection,  and  that  they  have  left  us 
gems  and  flowers  without  number,  which  will  lose  nothing  in 
comparison  with  any  other  of  their  kind,  either  ancient  or 
modern. 

The  question  concerning  the  influence  of  the  Arabs  on  the 
poetical  literature  of  the  South  has  occupied  the  historians  and 
critics  for  a  great  while,  some  claiming  nearly  every  thing, 
even  the  rhyme,  derived  from  them,  while  others  are  disposed 
to  credit  them  with  nothing  whatsoever.  The  truth  lies  doubt 
less  somewhere  between  the  two  extremes.  For  while  on  the 
one  hand  we  can  not  evade  admitting  the  existence  of  a  long 
protracted,  if  not  an  intimate,  contact  between  the  two  civiliza 
tions  upon  the  soil  of  Spain  and  Sicily,  however  hostile  they 
otherwise  were,  especially  in  respect  to  religion,  and  a  contact 
that  extended  itselt  to  every  class  of  society,  it  is  on  the  other 
hand  no  less  manifest  that  the  Christian  poetry  of  the  Provencals, 
of  Spain  and  Italy  has  every  characteristic  of  a  distinct  individ 
uality,  and  of  one  which  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  assuming 
it  to  be  an  original  and  inherent  one.  Let  us  adduce  a  few 
facts  of  the  case  : 

Although  the  Christian  authors  of  Spain  of  every  century 
are  but  too  prone  to  pronounce  judgment  in  reference  to  the 
Moors  indicative  of  the  grossest  ignorance,  denouncing  even 
their  scientific  men  as  necromancers  in  league  with  the  devil, 
and  contributing  in  every  way  to  fan  the  religious  hate  which 
formed  one  of  the  most  deeply  rooted  characteristics  of  both 
parties,  it  is  yet  equally  evident  that  a  large  number  of  Chris- 


46 

tians  of  every  rank  and  in  every  part  of  Spain  found  in  the  nat 
ural  course  of  events  better  opportunity  to  judge  of  their  antag 
onists,  and  that  in  many  instances  they  had  occasion  to  be 
rather  favorably  than  otherwise  impressed  by  them.  In  many 
cases  (arid  these  in  the  course  of  centuries  must  have  been  quite 
frequent),  in  which  sections  of  Christian  population  were  con 
quered  or  led  captive,  and  mildly  treated,  the  natural  result 
was  free,  if  not  friendly,  intercourse,  and  this  often  lasted  so 
long  that  many  of  them  learned  not  only  to  speak,  but  even  to 
read  and  write  the  Arabic,  and  to  compose  verses  in  it,  while  on 
the  other  hand  the  unfortunate  Moriscos  must  to  some  extent 
have  likewise  found  opportunity  to  make  known  their  language 
and  perhaps  now  and  then  also  their  poetry  among  their  con 
querors.  Sometimes  the  conquered  Christians  were  free  to  the 
extent  of  complete  religious  toleration.  At  different  times 
many  of  them  served  in  the  army  of  the  caliphs  or  kings,  while 
others  occupied  lucrative  places  at  court  or  in  the  palaces  of 
Moslem  nobles.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not  surpris 
ing  that  the  refined  culture  of  the  Arabs  should  occasionally  at 
tract  them  likewise  to  its  circle,  and  that  after  awhile  the  more 
educated  among  them  should  despise  their  unwieldy  dialect, 
the  rustic  Latin  or  Romansh,  and  apply  themselves  with  avidity 
to  the  language  of  their  masters.  Such  was  the  case  as  early 
as  the  ninth  century,  if  we  may  credit  Alvaro,  the  bishop  of 
Cordova,  who  complains  bitterly  of  it  as  a  great  calamity  to  the 
church.  "Many  of  my  religious  cotemporaries  read  the 
poetry  and  the  tales  of  the  Arabs,  and  study  the  writings  of  the 
Mohammedan  theologians  and  philosophers,  not  to  refute  them, 
but  in  order  to  learn  how  to  express  themselves  with  correctness 
and  elegance  in  the  language.  .  .  .  All  the  young  men,  who 
are  noted  for  some  talent,  know  but  the  language  and  literature 
of  the  Arabs  ;  they  read  and  study  Arabic  books  with  avidity  ; 
nay  they  even  go  to  enormous  expense  in  collecting  libraries  of 
them  and  everywhere  declare  the  literature  to  be  a  most  admir 
able  one.  .  .  .  Many  have  even  forgotten  their  own  lan 
guage,  and  there  is  scarcely  one  in  a  thousand  amongst  us,  who 
knows  how  to  write  a  tolerable  Latin  letter  to  a  friend,  while 
scores  of  them  can  express  themselves  most  elegantly  in  the 
Arabic,  and  even  compose  poems  in  this  language  better  than 
the  Arabs  themselves."  Of  poems  of  this  description  there  are 
yet  some  vestiges  extant,  and  we  also  know  that  in  Andalusia 
the  Latin  was  at  one  time  so  far  neglected  that  Archbishop  John 
of  Seville  found  it  necessary  to  translate  the  Bible  into  the 
Arabic.  Nevertheless  we  must  not  imagine  that  this  was  the 


47 

case  every  where  ;  the  ruslica  or  Romansh  continued  to  exist 
quite  generally  as  the  idiom  of  the  people,  with  which  in  their 
turn  then  the  Arabs  were  likewise  sometimes  familiar.     It  is 
needless  to  multiply  examples  ;  it  is  not   necessary  to  remind 
ourselves  of  characters  like  the  redoubted  champion,  the   Cid, 
who  fought  alternately  under  kings  of  both  parties,  although 
always  claimed  faithful  to  one,  and  who  was  doubtless  familiar 
not  only  with  the  language  but  with  every  thing  relating  to  the 
civilization  of  his  ally-opponents;  we  have  evidence  enough  to 
prove  that  Christian  Spain  was  not  beyond  the   reach  of  some 
influence    from   so    conspicuous  and  popular   an  element   of 
Moslem  culture  as  was   their  poetry.     In  Sicily  the    contact,1** 
although  later,  is  yet  equally  apparent,  at  least  as  long  as  Fred 
eric  II.  and  his  son  Manfred  kept  imperial  court  upon  the  island. 
Frederic  was  from   early  youth  familiar  with  the  Arabic,  the 
friend  and  munificent  patron  of  high  scientific  culture  in  general, 
surrounded  by  men  of  science  and  letters  from  all  parts  and  of 
every  sort,  of  which,  we  arc  expressly  told,  quite  a  number,  if  not 
the  majority,  were  Arabs,  and  some  troubadours  from  the  South 
of  France.     Now  Frederic  was  not  only  himself  an  amateur  of 
poetry,  but  he  enjoys  the  fame  of  having  introduced  the  Proven 
cals  upon  Sicilian  soil  and  of  having  thus  founded  there  a  school 
which  at  a  little  later  date  merged  itself  into  the  Italian  ;  and  how 
could  a  prince  of  Frederic's  taste  and  society  remain  a  stranger  to 
the  poetry  and  the  poets  of  a  nation,  in  which  in  other  respects 
he  found  so  much  to  appreciate,  and  on  a  spot  where  the  superb- 
est    architectural   monuments    were    considered    ornamented 
by  inscriptions  from  the  hand  of  genius  ?     But  besides  all  this,  *•* 
we  have  evidence  of  even   a  direct  influence  of  the  Arabic 
element  upon  the  old  Spanish  or  Castilian  in  a  number  of  pop 
ular  pieces  which  have  been  shown  to  be  refusions   of  Arabic 
zadjals  and  muwashahas    yet  extant.     Any   farther   than   this, 
however,  the  influence  of  the  Arabs  has  not,  and  in   all  proba 
bility  cannot,  be  proven,  and  we  must  therefore  assume  it  to 
have  been  much  more  of  an  indirect  and  general  than  of  a  special 
or  radical  one.     The  poetry  of  the  South  of  France,  of  Spain 
and  Italy  is  therefore  nevertheless  far  from  being  a  borrowed  or 
ingrafted  one  ;  it  originated  and  matured  on  an  essentially  dif 
ferent  ground,  is  the  expression  of  a  distinct  circle  of  ideas,  and 
in  point  of  both  form  and  substance  bears  the  imprint  of  a  pro 
foundly  marked  individuality. 


fllDS 


or 


Aft  It  1970  00 


E=i      Stockton,' Calif. 


CDfllDE7E 


LIBRARY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


nA  CLOSING  TIME 

DATE  STAMPED  BELOW 


USE 


1 1 J973 


LD62A-30m-2,'71 
(P2003slO)9412A-A-32 


.General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


